With an Imp in Your Shadow
by PhoenixCaptain
Summary: A cruel little demon from the realm of eternal dusk. A child of the sun, gentle and kind. Complete opposites in every way possible - and yet somehow, they end up falling for each other. [A collection of oneshots focusing on the development of their relationship.]
1. Beginning

"I found you!"

She's a _demon._

Why else does she have red eyes and blue lips and a fang poking from beneath them, and a mask like horns spiraling from her terrible little head?

She kicks his sides with tiny feet that should be delicate, but they aren't. Her laugh rings cruel against dank dungeon walls. And he hates her. Hates her with every fiber of his being.

Paws splash in shallow, filthy water. Pink tongue lolls from his maw as he runs. It feels strange to be a wolf, but he supposes he'll have to get used to it.

He thinks he never will.

 _I'm dreaming, that's all,_ he tries to convince himself. Why else would he be a wolf, running through a dark, unfamiliar dungeon with a cackling imp riding on his back? It's ridiculous, that's what it is, and he assures himself he'll be waking up soon to see the sun streaming through the window of his house in Ordon Village. And then he'll herd the goats like he always does, and he and Ilia will laugh together when he tells her what an odd dream he had just the night before.

Then the imp kicks his sides again, and the pain in his ribs and the snarl on his wolfish lips is real enough to convince him that maybe, just _maybe,_ he might not be dreaming.

"Hurry up!" the demon sighs, and kicks his sides again.

 _I'm not a horse!_ he wants to tell her, just in case she's stupid enough not to notice - but when he tries to speak, only an irritated growl bubbles in his throat. And she doesn't understand. She giggles again, of course, that terrible giggle of hers that he hates so deeply. "Now, now, be a good boy!"

He doesn't know her name, hasn't even known her for more than ten minutes. And already she's his worst enemy.

Then he stumbles across a very tall staircase, a deep pool of filthy, pungent water festering beneath. And he seizes his opportunity.

He doesn't even care that leaping head-first into the pool fills his mouth and ears and nose with disgusting, brown water. Doesn't even care that it soils his once-silky fur coat. All that matters is that the imp doesn't realize what he's doing until it's too late, until she's sinking deep into the revolting water and swallowing tons of it because she didn't close her mouth on time.

With rage and disgust boiling in her crimson eyes, she floats upward, breaks the surface of the murky sewer water and splutters. She can't do anything else, really, other than flick the brown liquid off her arms and legs and body and gasp for air.

Not that the air is much better than the water. They both smell and taste the same.

He swims out of the murky pool, sopping, the occasional mystery object tangled within his fur. And he's not quite sure he wants to know what those objects are.

"Stupid!" the demon screeches after she's finally able to speak again. "Stupid, _bad_ wolf, bad!" A tiny black hand riddled with cyan markings flies toward his head. He isn't fast enough, and doesn't manage to dodge the slap. Even as a wolf, and even coming from such a small hand, slaps don't feel any different. They still hurt.

He pulls his lips back, snarls at her, and she only rolls her single visible eye. The other one is hidden by that ugly mask of hers. "Get going, stupid wolf," she hisses, crashing down on his back once more, making him flinch beneath her sudden weight. For such a tiny creature, she's surprisingly heavy.

He only stands there a moment longer - and then shakes out his fur.

The little imp gives a cry of surprise, cut short when droplets of filthy water fly into her mouth with a vengeance. She clings to his fur for dear life until he's done, and then she smacks his head and kicks his sides. Again.

So he snarls, and shakes out his fur. Again.

Baring her teeth, the demon grasps one of his ears and tugs it back with a force that rips a whimper from his throat against his will. "Listen, you useless dog," she spits. He turns a narrowed eye to glare at her. "Obey me, or you won't get what you want. You care about your friends, right?"

Friends. The mention of them sends his heart dropping into his stomach like a stone.

She sees the pain in his eyes. And only smiles.

Hatred burns within his veins, turning his blood to fire. He wouldn't wish the little imp dead, or even hurt. It just isn't in his nature. But he wishes she'd return to the fiery pit from whence she no doubt came, and never return to torment him.

"That's right." The cruel demon laughs, _laughs_ at his pain. She releases his ear and leans back, lacing her arms behind her head, and stares down her nose at him with a smirk etched on her foul lips. "If you want to save them, you'll do exactly as I say. So... be a good boy, and head up those stairs, okay?" She points to them, the spiraling stone staircase climbing up and away from the sewers below.

He never stops glaring at her, never stops the growl rumbling in his throat. But he obeys her anyway.

What else can he do?

She giggles and pats his neck. "I think we're going to get along just fine!"

* * *

 **A/N: I want to write all these oneshots in chronological order to capture the growth of their relationship. So if you're here solely for fluff, you'll probably get some later on, but you'll have to wait. :P**

 **Anyway, I really shouldn't be doing this, because I'm already working on the hundred themes challenge _and_ three different stories, but whatever. Here it is. I wanted to do this for two reasons - one, because I'm awful at writing anything even remotely romantic, so I wanted to practice. As such, critiques are most definitely welcome. They'll always help me ****improve! And reason number two - because _please help me, I'm drowning in Midlink._**

 **Oh, also, the rating is subject to raise to T due to possible violence. I'm not sure yet though.**

 **Sorry, long authors note, I'll keep them much shorter in the future - but I just wanted to say, thanks so much for reading (and reviewing, if you want to do that too)!**


	2. Accusation

He feels much kinder as a Hylian than he does as a wolf. No strange inclinations to attack everything in sight, or eat raw meat, or bite the stupid imp on his back.

That imp's name is Midna, by the way. He'd learned that from the Princess of Hyrule, not even the imp herself.

But he isn't one to talk. Not like he'd ever given her _his_ name, either. And not like he _could,_ since he'd been a wolf for who knew how many days.

"So your name's Link, huh?" The imp leaps up from his shadow. Blackness swathes her small form, leaving only her single sunset-colored eye to peer at him from amidst darkness.

He elects not to respond.

She grins - he can tell, because her teeth flash white against her shadowy form. "That spirit - what was it called, Faron? - seemed to know a lot about you. More than even you know about yourself. Really, did you know you're supposed to be a hero?"

Still he says nothing. Her tone drips with sarcasm, because clearly she doesn't think he's "hero" material, and he's sure that if he tries to reply to her, only scathing words will pass his lips.

Midna tests his patience. Patience he had once thought was endless.

So he only turns away from her and starts walking, shallow spring water splashing around his feet with every step. He doesn't know where he's going. Doesn't really care, either. Just as long as he's far away from that unbearable little demon. Maybe he'll stop by Ordon, see how everyone's doing, take a nap...

"Hey! Where are you going?" she demands, hurriedly floating to his side. She tries to lay a delicate hand upon his shoulder in order to stop him, but her fingers only pass through his skin. He hears her mumbling some sort of complaint about being an intangible shadow. "Say _something,_ stupid wolf, or did you forget how to speak?"

Link pretends she doesn't exist, and he keeps walking, away from the glimmering spring. Sunset paints the sky with a dozen brilliant colors, and bathes the waters in orange. It's beautiful, he thinks, and his heart pangs at the fact that he can't enjoy it. Not with that imp beside him, anyway.

"Where are you going?" Midna hisses. "Didn't you hear Faron? We're supposed to go to the temple! For your information, you're going in the wrong direction, idiot!"

He stares ahead as he walks, once bright azure eyes dull and tired. Too many days he's gone with hardly any sleep at all. Too many days with an imp kicking his sides. Too many days...

Or maybe not a single day had passed at all. How can he know for sure, what with how the entire world had been enveloped in never-ending twilight?

"Hey, stupid wolf! Turn around! Don't you want to save your friends? What if they're being tortured as we speak?"

Stops.

He just stops, and so does his heart, for a second. His stomach churns at the mere thought of it, and he thinks the world might be spinning, but he doesn't know, because he can only stare unseeing at the swaying emerald grasses before him as his throat suddenly goes dry and he can't swallow, can hardly even _breathe -_

Because the children, and Ilia, _Ilia -_

He whirls to face the cruel beast, wind whipping his hair around his face at the sudden movement. Dull eyes sharpen, and he meets her fiery gaze with his own icy one. "Don't you _dare,"_ and he doesn't even recognize his own voice. He thinks it sounds much too similar to a wolf's snarl. It makes him cringe.

But Midna only grins, of _course_ she does, and plants her tiny fists on her wide hips. "Ooh! He finally speaks! Do you always sound so angry?"

Link swallows. He averts his gaze for a moment, nervously shifting his weight. "I'm... sorry." Why is he apologizing to a beast like her - someone who never once showed him any form of kindness? Except freeing him from that dungeon cell. He supposes that counts. But then again, not really, because she only freed him so she could blackmail him with constant mentions of his friends and obey her every whim like a slave.

"Good boy!" Midna laughs, and pats his head as if he's a dog. "Now go to that temple unless you want your friends to die. Got it?" And without another word she dives into his shadow.

How he hates her. Utterly _despises_ her. And he hates the feeling of it; it taints his blood, turns it into fire, and his thoughts swirl like a dark storm within his mind. He's never hated someone so deeply before.

He decides he hates hatred.

 _How ironic,_ he thinks with a sigh.

And even though he despises the imp, he realizes she might be right. As much as he wants to return home to that beautiful, quiet little paradise of Ordon, and as much as he only wants to take a long nap, the thought of Ilia and the children dying all because he's too lazy to save them is painful. Far too painful.

So he sets off in the direction of the temple.

* * *

"It's all your fault!" she huffs, throwing her hands into the air.

"My fault? _My_ fault?" he snaps. Patience, he tries to remember. Patience. But around her, it's so hard... "You're the one who can _float,_ and yet you just sit around in my shadow all day and do nothing!"

"I'm not the slave here, _you_ are, stupid dog! Do your master's bidding!"

 _You're not my master._ Goddesses, she makes him want to spit fire, the accursed little monster.

Ilia, how he misses her, and wishes she could take the imp's place. The journey would be so much easier with her encouraging, kind presence at his side. Of course she was stern at times, but that was only because she cared.

 _Was._ No, she still _is._ She's not dead yet, he tries to convince himself, but he isn't so sure. Heaving a tired sigh, he ambles toward the round wall and plops down into the grass, back pressed against the inside of the great tree that forms the temple. His eyes drift shut, and his mind wanders to simpler times - times of joy, and laughter, and a gentle breeze running cool fingers through his golden hair.

He'd always planned on marrying Ilia, maybe. He hadn't ever been sure of that. Ilia herself and her father had always just assumed that was going to be their future, their reality, but whenever they spoke of it to him, it made him uneasy.

How terribly indecisive he'd been. Now, though, he knows for sure - he loves Ilia, and wants to marry her, and the thought of settling down with her in the peaceful green of Ordon brings a tiny smile to his lips.

But now it's too late. She's gone, and might even be dead, and he's alone with only a demon for company.

"Hey, lazy wolf, get a move on!"

Speaking of demons...

"Are you even awake? Ugh, I swear," Midna grumbles. "Remember what that spirit told you? You're supposed to be the hero. If the entire world ends tomorrow, it'll be your fault!"

 _Apparently everything's my fault,_ he thinks bitterly, and wishes she'd just shut up for once. Honestly, does she ever stop talking?

"Stupid dog! Do you _want_ your friends to die?"

Rage boils within him. His lip might be curling against his will, and he feels a snarl caged in the back of his throat, threatening to break free. He tries hard to fight it back. After all, if he growls at her, she'll growl back.

So maybe, just _maybe,_ if he smiles at her... she might smile back.

 _It's what they always say. I'll kill her with kindness. I'll do it for as long as it takes, until she shows me at least a shred of decency in return._ Just like that, it becomes his new resolution. Something to distract him on this awful journey.

And so she's clearly surprised when his eyes flutter open in a rather peaceful manner, and he shrugs his shoulders. The overwhelming urge to snap at her dissolves into nothingness when he sees the hilarious look of shock evident in her single visible eye as he just smiles at her. "All right, sorry. I'll get going."

Then a terrible grin spreads slow across her terrible face, and that terrible fang pokes from beneath terrible lips. "That's more like it. Good boy!" she coos.

His new resolution nearly flies out the window.

It takes all his strength of will not to snap at her. Silence is the best option, he thinks, because if he opens his mouth only insults will come from it. So he presses his lips together and walks onward. Onward through the confusing temple, opening door after door and not knowing what in the sweet name of Nayru to do in each room.

Midna just floats along behind him, constantly cackling and making fun of his confusion.

It'll be a difficult resolution to keep, that much is for sure.


	3. Restless

"Link!"

Worried sapphire eyes sweep him, study him for any injuries at all, and he tries to offer her a smile as he quietly shuts the rickety wooden door behind him.

"Are you all right?" A desperate note taints her voice.

"Just fine, Uli," is his near-silent reply. "I'm... tired, that's all." Eyes downcast, he takes off his hat and runs a hand through terribly messy hair. He pulls a lock of it in front of his face, and discovers it looks more brown than golden. He wishes for a bath.

She walks to him, as fast as she possibly can with her belly so large. He wonders when her baby is due - and knows it will be difficult for her to deliver it in such a dire time, without even her husband at her side.

Where is Rusl, anyway?

He almost voices the question, but when Uli reaches him, placing trembling hands on his arms, he realizes she's just as confused and scared as he is. "I'm so glad you're all right, Link," she babbles, words tripping over themselves in their haste to leave her lips. "I was so worried... First the children and you, then my husband, and I can't... I..."

Tears brim in her eyes. Link's brows knit together in concern. "No, Uli... It'll be fine," he promises her, reaching his arms around her in something of a hug. She returns it, and refuses to cry. "I'll find Colin. And Ilia, and Talo and Malo and Beth. And they'll all be just fine."

Empty promises. They might have no meaning, because Ilia and the children might already be dead.

But he refuses to accept that possibility. He must continue forward - while he still has hope to cling to.

His mother - for that is what she is, even if not by blood - takes a step back from him and sniffles, as if telling her tears not to fall. He tries to smile at her. It comes out weak and tenuous, a blatant lie on his face. But she returns it anyway.

"Please Link, be safe. Don't do anything irrational. I was... _all_ of us were so worried for you." She swallows and averts her eyes.

"I know, I'm sorry... But I have to find Ilia and the children."

She nods once in understanding and never meets his gaze. "I know. But don't get hurt, and visit as often as you can. You're always welcome here, and I always have an extra serving of pumpkin soup, what with..."

 _With Colin and Rusl being gone,_ he knows she had intended to say, but she can't finish. She only covers her mouth with a shaking hand and squeezes her eyes shut.

"Uli..."

"I love you, Link," she tells him, finally looking up to meet his eyes. She doesn't even try to smile this time. "And if you find Rusl and Colin, tell them I love them too."

He remembers the hat hanging loose in his hand, and places it back atop his head. "I will. I love you too."

"Take care of yourself."

He turns. "All right." The door creaks open beneath his gloved palm, and he steps into the sunlight and the bright, beautiful rainbow that is Ordon Village.

But it doesn't feel as cheery as it should. It lacks the laughter of children, the chatter of adults, the bustle of activity as the men and women work. Now there is silence. Only silence. Even the birds have stopped their songs.

So when he hears a voice coming from his shadow - he jumps, a little. He can't help it.

"Hey, lazy wolf. Are you going to continue on anytime soon? It gets really boring sitting in your shadow all day and listening to you blab to random people."

Gritting his teeth, Link strides along the path toward his treehouse, back straight and shoulders stiff. He says nothing.

"Hello, idiot? You in there?" the cruel voice comes again.

He nearly slams his hand onto the ladder that leads up to his treehouse, and climbs it faster than he usually does.

"Ugh! What are you _doing?_ You're supposed to go to the next area of your stupid kingdom that's blanketed in Twilight! This isn't it, just so you know!" the imp hisses.

The door flies open and slams against the wooden wall of the tree. Taking a deep breath, he adjusts his fingerless gloves and shuts his eyes. In a voice much calmer than he feels, he says, "I know, Midna. I just needed to check in and see if everyone was all right."

"Yeah?" She leaps up from his shadow, form black, only a single sunset eye glaring at him. "Well, you're done talking to them. So get to the Twilight!"

His shoulders sag. "I need rest. And food, and a bath..."

"No you don't!" she insists. "What about your friends?"

"Midna..."

"Do you _want_ them to die?"

She's said that so many times now that it doesn't even faze him anymore. He just shakes his head and brushes past her - which isn't hard to do when she's in her incorporeal shadow form - and unstraps the shield and sword from his back. They fall to the floor with a clatter. "Don't you ever have to eat?" he asks her.

Midna rolls her only visible eye. "Obviously, stupid wolf. But not when I'm in this form. I'm just a shadow, so I don't need anything to sustain me."

"But when you aren't a shadow?"

"Then I'd have to eat. Duh. Really, you're such an idiot."

He peels his hat away from his head, shakes his hair out, and places the limp green fabric on a nearby table. "So is that why you take the form of a shadow so often?"

"I..." She folds her arms across her chest and harrumphs. "You don't need to know that."

"Oh? Really?" He feels a slow smile creeping across his lips, and quickly turns his head away to hide the fact. That's the first time she's ever stumbled over her words, and though it's small, he can't help feeling like it's a victory.

"I'm the one who does all the talking here, stupid!" the imp growls. "So just shut up, put your ugly hat back on, grab your weapon, and let's go!"

"I really do need rest," he tells her, bending to pull off his boots. "If I don't get any, then I might pass out at the worst possible time - like in the middle of a battle, for instance."

"Ugh!" She tosses her hands in the air and shakes her head. "Stubborn fool... fine! Sleep, for all I care! And take a bath, you look like garbage!" And without another word, she floats out his window and dives into the shadow of a nearby tree.

Link watches her go, eyes wide and perplexed - and then he grins to himself.

A moment of peace. Of _peace,_ thank the sweet Goddesses!

He fills the old wooden bathtub with water from a pump in his house - a pump Rusl had helped him install, an ingenious little invention really - and not knowing when she'll return, he hurries to strip down and step into the bathwater. It's cold, and makes him cringe, but he ignores the fact, and doesn't hesitate to grab the bar of soap he always keeps near his bath.

As he washes, brown fills the bathtub, the brown of dirt and mud and who knows what else. And when he steps out, wrapping a towel around himself, his hair is golden once again.

He smiles. Washing up might be something of a small accomplishment, but after suffering through that awful temple in the deep forest, it feels like a monumental occasion. _Especially_ without Midna. Although there had been plenty opportunities to clean himself at least a little bit, he had never dared, for the imp constantly lurking in his shadow.

But now she's gone. And he hums to himself a peaceful little melody as he dresses in something simple and airy - not like those heavy green clothes and mail armor he'd been wearing earlier - and begins to start a fire in the hearth.

"Are you done yet?"

The voice comes from his window. Link glances over his shoulder only to find the little shadow-imp floating there, legs crossed midair. He gives her a vague shrug in response, feeling much more patient now that he's all cleaned up, and hangs a deep pot above the fresh fire.

"Is that a yes?" she grunts impatiently.

"I've only just finished my bath," he explains as he fishes through his cupboards and hopes all the ingredients there haven't gone bad. "I just need to eat, and take a little nap, and then I'll be ready."

"No!" she snaps, teeth bared.

He blinks in surprise and stops, hand hovering above a jar of spices, and turns his head to face her. Of course she's easily angered, and has a very short temper, but he hadn't quite expected such an angry response from her. Maybe a roll of her eyes. Or a grunt of annoyance. But not _that._

"You're taking way too long as it is. We have to get _moving,_ don't you understand that?"

"I -"

"Of course you don't," she interrupts, lip curling into a sneer. "You're just a stupid little doggie who needs his master to do _everything_ for him. You'd still be chained in that dungeon without me! You should be _grateful_ for everything I've done for you, not sitting here procrastinating!" Her voice rises with each word, until it's high-pitched and loud, near shouting. "You idiot!"

 _And you aren't my master! I'm not a dog!_ he wants to scream at her. But he resists the urge. Hand trembling with anger, he claims the jar of spices and slowly inhales, exhales, inhales, exhales... until he feels just slightly better. He walks silent to the pot above the fire and pours in a little spice, then selects broth from a different cupboard and dumps in a plentiful amount.

"Are you even _listening_ to me?!"

Link's shoulders drop. He hadn't even realized they were so stiff until now. "I'm sorry -" _No I'm not -_ "but I need food. And rest. I'll try to make it quick. If I don't wake up from my nap after a half hour, then you can do the honors."

She presses her shadowy lips together into a thin line. Silence follows his statement, silence in which she narrows her eye at him and only glares. He pretends not to notice.

"Fifteen minutes," she finally says.

He turns to give her a pleading smile. "...Twenty?"

"Don't give me that puppy-dog face. You look like an idiot."

His smile only widens.

"Fine, twenty," she concedes, heaving a great, irritated sigh. She floats back into the room - and dives into his shadow once more.

Link returns his attention to the soup, adding a few dried vegetables into the mixture. And he can't help grinning.

He wonders if it's too much to hope that she's becoming more agreeable.

* * *

 **A/N: Progress has been made. :P**

 **Thanks so much to everyone who has read and reviewed so far!**


	4. Snowflake

It's the first snowflake of the season.

Midna watches it fall from the gray sky, watches it settle atop Link's hair, watches it melt into the golden strands.

"What's that?" she asks, curious finger pointing at his hair.

He furrows his brow. "Snow," is his absentminded response, as his eyes lift to the thick silver clouds above. Not a single sliver of azure shines through. "But it's awfully early... Summer's barely ended." He bites his lip in concern. The pumpkins haven't been harvested yet, and they'll be ruined if it begins to snow.

Another flake drifts down from the sky, passing through Midna's shadowy body and dissolving in the cool water of Ordon Spring.

"What's snow?" she asks, blinking up at the clouds.

He turns his disbelieving eyes to her. She doesn't know what snow is? Where is she from?

A fiery pit, no doubt.

He chases the thought away, thinking that it's much too rude. Of course Midna hasn't exactly shown him kindness, but still - she's not _actually_ a demon, is she? Honestly, he doesn't know what to think of her.

"It's... it just, comes from the clouds every winter. It's white and cold, but even though it can be unpleasant, it's still beautiful. It covers the world in a shimmering white blanket that looks like crystal." He looks away to the sky once more, but glances to the imp out of the corner of his eye.

She only stares unblinking at the clouds. No doubt she's waiting for another snowflake to fall.

"Huh," she drawls after a moment's pause.

Link reaches down and dips his empty glass bottle into the spring water. Once it's filled, he draws it out, dripping, and corks it.

"Are you done yet?" Midna sighs, turning her gaze away from the sky and to the young Hylian man beside her. She watches with lip curled in annoyance as he produces another empty bottle and fills that one too. "You take forever! If I would've known it'd take you _this_ long to collect some stupid water, I wouldn't have agreed to let you!"

"Ordon Spring's water has healing properties," he explains as he corks the second bottle. "If I get injured, then we'll both be grateful that we stopped to collect some."

 _"You'll_ be grateful." Midna narrows her eye at him. "Me, on the other hand? I don't give a bokoblin's tail if you die."

He tries not to let her words sting. She's just being herself, after all. This behavior is expected of her. Still - it hurts anyway. Not meeting her gaze, he tucks the second bottle into his satchel and sighs. "Well -"

Wait. Furrowing his brow, he glances up to her shadowy face. "Bokoblins don't have tails...?"

"That's the point, idiot."

He cocks a brow. She offers an impish, toothy grin in reply.

"Anyway," he grumbles, turning away from the spring, "why would you still be following me around and telling me what to do if you didn't care about me at all?"

"What? You're making absolutely no sense."

Striding away from the spring without stopping to wait for the imp, he calls over his shoulder, "You'd care if I died. You need me, after all. Why else would I be doing everything for you if you could just do it yourself?"

"Because I don't _want_ to!" she snarls. "You're the slave, and I'm the master. The master can do whatever she wants while her slave does all her work _for_ her. Obviously. I thought you'd understand this by now, but I guess I've been giving you too much credit!"

"So then... you need me, right? To do your bidding." He stops, just for a moment, to cast her a glance over his shoulder, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

She can only float there, dumbfounded, lips parted into a small "o" of surprise.

He resists the urge to burst into laughter.

"You - you - what?!" Midna splutters, clenching her tiny hands into fists. "That's not - that isn't true at all! I _don't_ need you! I wouldn't care if you died, not one bit. I could do everything by myself without you! Just because I don't want to doesn't mean I couldn't!"

"All right, whatever you say. I'm sorry." He gives a good natured shrug and continues on.

"You're _unbearable!"_ she growls, and dives into his shadow with a huff of exasperation.

"For apologizing?" He glances down to his shadow - not that he can see her there - and pretends to be hurt. "I didn't mean to offend."

"Whatever, just go!"

He only smiles. In a way, she's amusing, he thinks. Maybe she isn't too bad after all.

Another white snowflake drifts from the sky, and settles on the dirt path before him. Azure eyes flick to the thick, shifting clouds above, and watch as snow weaves a gentle dance through the air, eventually coming to land upon the world around him.

His breath forms tiny clouds before him that swiftly dissipate into the cold air. With a shiver the Hylian pulls his hat down over his long, pointed ears, and idly wonders if there's snow in the Twilight.

Flakes of crystal twirl around him, watching as he crosses the long wooden bridge spanning a deep black ravine, watching as the gray morning mist swallows his shape.

And they blanket the world in pure white.


	5. Haze

_Screaming._

The sound of his own agony roars in his ears, pierces the rock walls around him, and echoes back, making it sound even worse than it actually is. The pained voice of a screaming Hylian slowly morphs into that of a wolf's howl, and for a moment everything goes black.

Then an imp slams onto his back.

He can't help whimpering beneath the onslaught, and his legs threaten to crumple. Everything is still black even though he knows his eyes are open.

He had thought he was prepared. He knew he would transform into a wolf beyond the curtain of Twilight, and he knew it would hurt.

But this! He could have never prepared for it, never have remembered just how much it really hurts. Sure, he remembers his first time transforming, and the sheer agony it had caused him - but he doesn't remember it hurting _this much._

And Midna - cruel, awful little Midna - just has to make it worse. Of course she does. She can't ever give him a break.

His vision slowly returns to him, and blurs of orange and black meet his gaze.

"That's more like it!" Midna giggles, leaning forward across his back and patting his head. "You're way better in this form. Wouldn't you agree?"

No. But he can't speak to voice his opinion, so he doesn't even try.

Keen wolfish eyes raise, study his surroundings. Little black specks rise from the ground and float into the air, and when he tries to touch one with his muzzle, it only passes right through him without feeling or scent. Black clouds shift in the orange sky. The rock walls surrounding him bathe in an otherworldly greenish glow. The distance is shrouded in a pale pink haze.

The Twilight. He's back in the Twilight.

"Ah, isn't it so relaxing here?" the little imp sighs, form no longer draped in shadow. Now if he glances over his shoulder, he can see her blue skin, intricate cyan markings, and the details of the terrible mask atop her head. "It's way better than your ugly light world with the burning sun. How do you live with that thing?"

Link ignores her. Not much else he can do, anyway - though he admits to himself that the bestial urge to throw her off his back and attack her has returned. But he won't do that. He feels he'd be throwing his last shred of humanity to the wind if he did.

Midna peacefully shuts her eyes, wrapping small arms around his fluffy neck to support herself. "I think I'll take a nap while you run around. Look for the spirit of these lands, got it? No sniffing the roses along the way!"

He only stares at her.

The imp's eyes flutter open, and she glares at him. "Well? Get going, stupid wolf!"

He doesn't even notice his black lips pulling back into a silent snarl. But she does. Giggling, she only shuts her eyes again and pats his neck as if he's a horse. "You'd better go before I decide to start kicking your sides again!

He can't really do anything but obey.

* * *

The _children,_ they're all here, it's them!

He nearly barks with joy, and much to his embarrassment, he can feel his tail wagging. There isn't anything he can do to stop it, so he doesn't even try.

Colin, Talo, Malo, Beth, it's them - and they're safe. The thought of returning to Ordon and telling everyone that their children are all right fills him with joy.

Except for one problem.

Ilia isn't among them.

Worry gnaws at his heart, threatens to overwhelm it, but he fights to push the feeling away. She'll be fine. Fine, he tells himself, although he isn't convinced.

Midna grins on his back. "Too bad they can't see you! How sad. Poor doggie." Shaking her head, she pats his neck. He tries to pretend she doesn't exist.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" Midna sighs. "Get going!"

But he ignores her. They're talking, and if he strains his wolf's ears to listen, he can hear.

"... the lady from the store didn't make it - even when half the entire village went to save her!" an unfamiliar man cries, limbs trembling in fear. "And it was all for nothing! They died in the end too! If those beasts decide to attack us, my bombs won't do anything to them... They'll slaughter us!"

"Barnes," another man hisses.

Beth clings to the latter's robe, and sobs, loud wailing sobs that echo through the Twilight. He attempts to calm the child to no avail.

"Shut up, kid!" the first man - Barnes - commands, voice just as shaky as his legs. "They'll hear us!"

"Silence, Barnes!" the other man growls.

Colin stares down at his feet. "Beth... It's okay," he murmurs, reaching a hand to touch her shoulder. She shrugs him away with a sob catching in her throat. "Link... Link will save us!"

She only shakes her head. Her cries of fear never stop.

Barnes sinks to the floor, pulling down a shabby welding mask to cover his face, and his shoulders heave with sobs.

 _They're all so afraid,_ Link thinks to himself with a lump in his throat. _I have to hurry, somehow._

"Are you finished listening now?" Midna huffs, disinterestedly studying her nails. "Because you should really move your sorry tail if you want to help them."

Swallowing against a throat that's quite suddenly dry, he turns to obey without another moment of hesitation.

* * *

The Twilight's haze never leaves. Even when it is restored to light and life, and the echoes of another world are no more, that pale mist still shrouds the distance.

It sends a chill dancing down his spine.

The village is brown, and strangely dry despite the mist, devoid of grass or trees or life. A hawk circles high above, shrill cry piercing the morning air.

No snow falls here. It's much too warm for that. Link isn't quite sure if he's thankful for the lack of cold or if he prefers it to the dry heat of the dead village.

He stares into the sky with eyes Hylian instead of wolf, absently tightening his fingerless gloves.

And then -

"Link! It's you!"

The voice belongs to a small boy. A very familiar small boy. Link turns, eyes wide, to face the child, and a grin breaks through upon seeing all the children - no longer spirits - rushing to him with relieved giggles in their throats. They crowd around him - all save Malo; he's a strangely somber child and not easily excitable - jumping up and down in joy, and he can't help laughing as he lays a hand on Colin's and Talo's shoulders.

Colin hugs Link's leg for dear life as if the Hylian will disappear otherwise. "I knew you'd come!"

Link chuckles. "I couldn't just leave you alone, could I?"

The young blonde boy laughs and holds ever tighter to his adopted brother's leg.

For a long time they just laugh together, and rejoice in each other's company. And even long after they're gone again, when Link has only quiet and peace as company, the little imp in his shadow never says a word. Almost as if she understands his need for a moment to himself. A moment of contentment and relief.

He silently thanks her.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry about this one... it kinda just jumps around a lot. I would have gone into more detail in the Twilight, but I want to try to keep this K+ :P**


	6. Flame

**A/N: Just a warning in advance, this is the chapter in which I raise the rating to T because of violence... It probably isn't that bad, but just to be safe. (And yes... I know, just last chapter I said I wanted to keep it K+ but, well, that's just not happening.)**

* * *

The second Fused Shadow. Help the Gorons in order to find it. Of course help the Gorons, he'll never get a break, will he?

To an outsider who knows nothing of Gorons, they'd shrug off his frustration. But to anyone who knows Gorons, they know the creatures enjoy volcanoes, and mining. Mix the two together and you get an expansive, maze-like mine within a volcano.

Curse it all.

Link trudges through rooms shimmering with waves of heat, and sweat drowns his entire body. He's constantly wiping it off his head and trying to ignore the rivulets of it running down his back and chest.

Not to mention the stupid bow and quiver of arrows.

Ever since childhood, Link had always been fascinated by the idea of a bow, and had always wished to wield one. But now? He decides he hates the ridiculous invention.

For one, he doesn't know how to use it very well. Clumsy fingers fumble with the arrows, never nocking them fast enough or just quite right, and they always seem to miss their targets when he fires. And for another thing, drawing back the heavy bowstring is a taxing chore, straining muscles all along his arms and back, and making the pool of sweat he's bathing in just that much worse.

"Can't you go any faster?" Midna hisses quietly from his shadow as he attempts to nock another arrow.

He grits his teeth in concentration and doesn't respond.

A little green bulblin stands across the cavern, the last obstacle in his path to the final room of the mines. A room where, he hopes, the second piece of the Fused Shadow will lie.

Link crouches behind a thick steel beam supporting the ceiling of the cavern. The bulblin hasn't seen him yet. If he can somehow manage to keep it that way...

All in one swift, graceful movement, he stands, pivots on his heel, and aims the bow at the enemy. He takes a casual stance, shuts one eye as he aims, and then - _fires._

Not so graceful is the way the arrow arcs much higher than he had intended it to. Not so graceful is the way it flies far past its intended target and clatters uselessly to the rock floor at least five yards behind the bulblin.

And not so graceful is the way Link gives a yelp of panic as the bulblin fluidly nocks, draws, aims, and fires all before he can even blink.

The Hylian acts more on instinct than anything else as he lunges behind the steel pillar again. The arrow whistles through the air. He watches, eyes wide in horror, as the arrow clinks against the stone wall where he might have been if he hadn't acted so quickly.

"Wow, good job, Mister Hero, you _missed!"_ Midna growls.

"I can see that!" His voice trembles, and he swallows, running a sweaty hand through sweaty hair in attempt to calm himself.

"Ugh. I can't believe the Goddesses chose _you,_ of all people. You're useless."

Link ignores her, shakily nocking another arrow to his bow and taking multiple deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm himself. He half expects the bulblin to come climbing up the metal ramp in the cavern in an attempt to find its prey, but it doesn't.

Seizing his opportunity, he draws the bowstring back, muscles straining, and quickly steps out from behind the steel beam once again. This time he aims a little lower, and fires.

The arrow sails away. It whistles through the cavern, coming ever closer to the little green creature - and, expecting such an attack, it simply dodges out of the way.

"For Din's sake!" Link cusses aloud, ducking behind the pillar again as an arrow flies past his hiding place in response.

It takes much longer than he'd ever care to admit to anyone to finally pierce the bulblin's head with an arrow. And as soon as he's done, his quiver is very nearly empty. Only two arrows left.

Of course Midna laughs at how long it took him. And how deeply drenched in sweat he is.

"You're lucky you can't feel how hot it is in here," he grumbles, shuffling across the cavern toward the gigantic door that marks the final room.

"I sure am!" she chirps in reply from his shadow. Though he can't see her, he imagines she's grinning cheekily at him.

Booted feet ring against the steel ramp, echoing across stone cavern walls. The great, imposing door before him stands tall, locked tight. Pressing his lips together into a thin line, Link fishes through his satchel until he finds the large key.

But then he stops for a moment. Shoulders stiff, back much too straight, he only stares at the great door before him. The Gorons spoke of their patriarch; a leader possessed by a strange power, and turned into something dark and terrible that had to be sealed away.

That same patriarch lies beyond this door, Link knows. And the thought makes his throat go dry.

"What are you waiting for?" Midna grumbles impatiently. "We need those Fused Shadows! Get a move on, stupid wolf!"

So he opens the door - even though the movement makes his stomach flop.

And there, standing in the round room beyond, is a _monster._

 _Oh Nayru._

Link's eyes widen as he studies his foe. Its form sulks in blackness, no hint of detail on its massive body. Thick arms hang from chains fastened to the ceiling. Its chest slowly rises, falls, rises, falls, with a rhythm that suggests deep sleep.

He dares to hope it'll remain that way.

Fused Shadow. Where is the Fused Shadow? Azure eyes sharp with panic sweep the room, searching desperately for any sign of the ancient magical artifact. But he sees nothing. Of course he doesn't, the accursed thing is probably _inside_ that monster's body, just like the first Fused Shadow had been in the other monster's body...

So he takes a single step forward.

Suddenly an orange light awakens on the monster's black forehead. The glow spreads, and its entire body bursts into flame, thick lips pulling back to reveal rows of impossibly gigantic, sharp teeth. Piercing red eyes flash open.

And the beast jerks its arms downward, snapping the chains as if they're made of twigs. It glares down at the small Hylian, towering above him, ferocious head nearly grazing the ceiling. Then it roars.

The sound rings in Link's skull, pounds against it, and he stumbles back, gaping, from the sheer force of it.

 _Sweet Golden Goddesses, help me._

The flaming monster lifts an arm, and throws its heavy chain like a whip toward the young man before it. He flings himself out of the way with a rather undignified yelp of fear.

"That gem on its forehead!" Midna calls from the safety of his shadow.

The monster stomps toward him.

"That seems to be the source of its power. Maybe if you hit it somehow? With an arrow!"

"An - an arrow?" Link splutters incredulously, scrambling desperately to his feet and sprinting out of the beast's path. "I can barely use that thing, Midna, how am I supposed to hit a tiny gem on its forehead _while it's trying to kill me?!"_

"Just stop screaming and do something, idiot!"

Biting his lip so hard that it bleeds, he slips the bow off his shoulder and fetches an arrow from the quiver.

His foe never stops advancing.

Hands tremble. Fingers fumble. The arrow slips, and clatters to the ground. He throws out many a cuss word, not caring one single bit about propriety in the moment. Heart hammering against his ribcage like a frightened beast begging to be freed, he bends to retrieve the fallen arrow.

And the beast lifts its arm again.

His fingers curl around the arrow - and he doesn't waste a single second in throwing himself to the ground and rolling clumsily away from the monster's chain. It smashes the wall where he had been naught a second earlier, stone cracking and dust pluming from the onslaught.

Chest heaving, panting like a dog, Link sprints as far away from his foe as he possibly can, pressing himself against a wall before he tries once more to nock the arrow to his bow.

To his utter shock - and relief - he succeeds.

But aiming is another matter.

The monster turns its cruel glare to him, roars a terrible roar, and starts to walk toward him.

Link swallows. He aims his arrow, trying to force himself not to shake, but he can't. He can't do it. The bowstring twangs. The arrow flies.

Of course it misses.

It crashes into the beast's shoulder, and ricochets off with a pathetic _clink._ Mouth agape in horror, he can only watch as the terrible monster advances, advances as if it never felt anything, and raises its arm again.

Link tries to dodge. He tries to leap out of the way.

But he hears the heavy chain whistling low behind him - and he isn't fast enough -

 _Crack._

His body sails, limp, through the air, and crashes into the stone wall. Eyes wide, chest still, he sinks to the floor, numb.

Then chaos breaks free.

He thinks Midna might be screaming at him, something like "Get up idiot, it's coming!" - but he isn't quite sure, because his head is pounding, ears ringing, and he can't _breathe,_ sweet Golden Goddesses help him, and the floor might be shaking, though he isn't quite sure why - maybe it's because the beast is coming towards him? - and everything and nothing hurts all at once, in a strange dull sort of way and everything's going black -

"Up! Up, idiot, _up!"_ Midna hovers before him, shadowed form stiff, and there just might be a hint of worry tainting that single crimson eye of hers.

Or maybe all she cares about is losing a slave. He doesn't know. And he doesn't care either, because he _still can't breathe,_ and everything is slipping away...

"It's going to _kill you!_ For the love of all things wonderful, stupid wolf, move your pathetic tail!"

Then the breath assaults his lungs all at once. He gasps, and coughs, and pain stabs him all over his body. He lets out an involuntary cry of agony, his pathetic attempt to sit up cut short when he can only collapse to the stone floor again.

For the love of Nayru... it feels like his entire body is _shattered_.

The low whistling rings through the air. And the _chain -_

Despite the screaming agony, despite the burning in his lungs, despite his trembling limbs - he runs. Or he tries to, anyway, but his broken bones won't let him, and he can only really stumble inelegantly out of the way.

The chain crashes into the wall right above him, sending loose rock spraying into the air. He tries to lift his arms to protect his head - and immediately regrets it. Pain roars at him, forces him to crumple beneath its crushing grip with a choked cry.

Vaguely he can hear the imp's high pitched voice above the tumult - "I'll distract it if you hit it, okay?"

 _I can't, I can't, I can't..._ Each breath hitches in his throat. Trembling arms try to push him up, but they collapse, dropping him to the hard floor again with a shuddering gasp of pain. _I can't even stand, how can I shoot it with an arrow...?_

Blurred gaze slowly rises to the scene in front of him. And there Midna floats before the enemy, hair formed into a huge orange hand. "Hey! Come get me!" she snarls.

Thankfully the beast obeys. It turns to her, giant fangs bared, and reaches a gargantuan hand to crush her. She giggles when its fingers only pass harmlessly through her shadowy form. "Over here!" she taunts, flying to a different side of the room, farther away from the injured Hylian.

It's his only chance.

 _Please, Goddesses, please... give me the strength..._

Aching fingers reach into his satchel, and produce a little bottle filled with spring water. He uncorks it - and downs it all in one big gulp.

The pain barely dulls. But it's just enough.

He rises. Shaking arms push him upright, weak knees support him, and trembling fingers nock his final arrow.

No matter how much his body wails, _begs_ him to stop, no matter how much the agony sears him, threatens to _consume him_ -

\- he draws the bowstring back.

Tears pour down his cheeks, tears of pure, unadulterated pain, tears he didn't even know had been gathering in his eyes until now. But he ignores them all, ignores them and aims at the jewel on the monster's forehead.

He stares in confusion as the arrow sails through the air, and wonders when it left his bow. He doesn't remember firing.

Will it miss?

Time seems to slow as he watches, muscles tensed, watches the arrow fly - and crash right into its target.

The gem shatters like cheap glass beneath the sharp arrowhead.

For a moment time stops. No sound, no movement, nothing.

Then the monster roars in agony, liquid fire leaking from what had once been the jewel, pouring down its face in sizzling orange rivulets, giant hands flying up to its forehead in a vain attempt to quell the pain. It stumbles once, trips over its own foot... and falls.

Link can only be grateful that it doesn't collapse on him, because he doesn't have the strength to move. At all. He thinks the world is at a different angle all of a sudden, and there's a quiet thud too... Oh. He's on the floor again.

"Good, you're still alive." Midna settles in front of him, arms folded across her chest, grin splitting her face.

"Y...you..." His voice croaks, so hoarse, so quiet he almost doesn't even recognize it. "...care?" He remembers the split second of worry that had seemed to cross her features when he'd been hurt.

Midna rolls her eyes. "No, I don't care. But do you know how irritating it'd be to go find myself another servant if you died? Ugh..." She shakes her head.

He barely even hears her, because her voice echoes, dull, as if coming from a distance. The world is a spinning blur. Once-searing anguish dulls into nothing more than a weak throb all over his body.

Then blackness consumes him.

* * *

He wakes to light, and a soft bed, and discomfort.

Discomfort is a bit of an understatement.

Groggy eyes scan the room, attempt to take it all in, but his vision is much too blurry, and he can't really make anything out.

"You're awake."

The voice rings deep, and oddly familiar, but he can't entirely place it. Squeezing his eyes shut, he grits his teeth together in an attempt to stop a groan of pain. He fails.

"I'm sorry... I've tended to your injuries as best as I could. You broke quite a few bones."

"R...Renado?" Link finally manages to say. The kind man who had taken the children under his wing when they had nowhere else to go, the kind man who had watched over them in the darkness of Twilight. And now the kind man who had apparently patched him up.

"Rest, Link," Renado sighs. "I'll go fetch you some lunch, if you feel up to eating."

"Thank you..."

"No, thank _you."_ There's a smile in voice, even if Link can't see him, he knows it's there. But why? What did he ever do to deserve thanks, other than break his entire body?

He hears the man stand, the fabric of his clothes swishing as he crosses the room. A door creaks open. "Starting tomorrow, you'll need to bathe in and drink sacred spring water daily to speed up the healing process and make sure nothing goes wrong," Renado explains from the doorway.

Link doesn't respond. He's too busy wondering how he even got here in the first place.

The door shuts. Silence shrouds the room.

Then it's broken by an irritated sigh.

"Well? Are you going to thank me, idiot?" Midna growls. "I didn't _have_ to teleport you all the way here. And I risked being seen when I did! I deserve _something,_ don't I?"

"Thank you, Midna." His voice croaks, painful to even listen to, more painful to speak. All he wants is to drift back to sleep.

But, wait -

"I thought... you said you could only teleport me places when I'm in wolf form?" His eyes crack open. Light floods his vision, making him squint, and he quickly averts his eyes from the window. There Midna floats beside him, arms folded across her tiny, shadowy chest.

She shrugs. "I lied. Sort of. See, everything that passes through the Twilight portals needs to be a creature _of_ Twilight. In your wolf form, that's exactly what you are. If you aren't a creature of Twilight, then you can still go through the portals, but you have a very high chance of just dying inside of them."

"What?!" he splutters. The sudden outburst makes his body throb with pain, and he gives an involuntary groan, squeezing his eyes shut again.

Though he can't see her, he imagines she's rolling her eyes at him. "Well, you were gonna die anyway! I figured it was worth the risk, don't you?"

"I don't think a few broken bones can be _fatal -"_

"Just thank me!"

"I already did... but, thanks again."

She grunts in irritation. "Yeah, whatever. I don't wanna hear your voice anymore anyway, it's really ugly right now. Just hurry up and get better, okay?"

He thinks he can feel a small smile crossing his lips in response.

She leaps into his shadow. All is silence once again. And he drifts off into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: I forgot to do my routine injury research before writing this, so if it's unrealistic, I'm sorry. Also, I know I made the fight with Fyrus a little easy, but hey. This is still the beginning of Link's journey. It'll get a lot harder from here on out.**


	7. Formal

"What are you _doing,_ you stupid wolf?!"

His pink tongue lolls from his maw, azure eyes half-lidded, and his legs crumple beneath him. He collapses into the long grasses of the field, cool Twilight breeze rustling his fur.

"Ugh! No!" Midna kicks his sides - a little gentler than she usually does - and bares her teeth. "You're supposed to _move!_ We're already late as it is!"

He casts her a tired, questioning glance over his furry shoulder.

The imp folds her arms across her chest. "Yes, _late._ If we don't get that last Fused Shadow soon... Well, who knows what'll happen? We need that thing, idiot... don't you get it? It took so long for all your broken bones to heal. If we keep procrastinating -"

She sees his wolfish eyes narrow, perhaps in dread, and he quickly looks away.

Midna shakes her head in frustration. "You already get it, don't you? If we don't hurry... there might not even be a Hyrule for you to save."

She feels his muscles tense beneath her.

"And your friend? That girl, the one you never found? She's probably already dead, because you're taking so long!"

The wolf cringes. She curls her lip at him in contempt, watching as he stands on shaky legs and tries to push forward, no matter how exhausted he is.

In truth, she feels a little guilty. Always pushing him with mentions of his friends, never really letting him rest long enough, treating him like naught more than dirt on her heel...

But he deserves it. He's a pathetic light-dweller. A cruel, selfish beast that doesn't care about anyone except himself.

Or, that's what she tells herself. He seems so selfless, the way he wants to do anything for his friends and their safety, even putting up with a cruel little imp kicking his sides and scorning him every passing second. He seems so patient, the way he never lashes out at her even when only poison leaves her lips.

She's becoming too soft.

He's an idiot. A useless, pathetic light-dweller whose only purpose is to serve as her slave. She tells herself he's not worth her time, or her care - he's only worth the Fused Shadows. And then once he's gathered them all, she can leave him all to himself, without her help, and she won't regret it at all.

Or will she?

 _No._ No, she will not.

She needs to leave eventually, anyway. She had once been the princess of another realm.

Once? She still is, she tries to convince herself, but can't help feeling that she's nothing more than an ugly little beast without power to do anything for herself. She _can't_ claim the Fused Shadows on her own. That's what Link is for.

Not like she'll ever tell him that. It might actually make him feel _useful,_ Goddesses forbid.

Still - sitting on his back, tiny fingers entangled in his silky fur, the cool breeze tickling her skin... maybe it isn't so bad after all. Maybe it's even _better_ than being stuck in a palace all day, attending stuffy dinners and stuffy meetings with all the stuffy nobles in their stuffy, formal robes.

But she misses it all anyway. Misses it because it's all she's ever known, and because she's stuck in the body of a terrible demon with only a stupid wolf for company.

Said stupid wolf's legs suddenly give out beneath him, sending him lurching to the ground with a whimper. Midna gasps in surprise and clings to his fur, barely avoiding being flung off his back.

As much as she wants to tell him to get right back up - she hesitates. She knows he suffered from plenty of broken bones not too long ago, and even though he'd bathed in and drank sacred spring water every single day to help him heal faster, it's obvious he's still weak. So she bites her lip, and swallows the angry insult she'd been about to throw at him.

"Ugh," she sighs, floating up off his back and crossing her legs midair. "Fine, just sleep there..."

Link gives a little whine of discomfort, and tries to stand.

Midna shakes her head. "Persistent, aren't you? I said sleep. I don't need you tripping over your own paws every five seconds! Got it?"

The wolf falls to his side then, legs splayed out in front of him in a position that looks uncomfortable to her, but he seems fine with it. Tired blue eyes meet hers, and they're filled with such gratitude that she starts to feel guilty again.

She's _definitely_ getting too soft.

She only floats over him, watching as his eyes drift shut and his breathing slows to a comfortable, even rhythm. She can see his muscles relaxing beneath soft fur.

Slowly she floats down to the long, swaying grass and settles there in front of him. She can't help imagining her palace, its beautiful courtyard, and how she always used to seek refuge there after the terribly dull meetings and dinners and dances a princess was expected to attend.

A gentle breeze toys with her hair. Endless fields stretch green before her. The sky glows a brilliant orange, and the black clouds shift peacefully within its deep expanse.

And she thinks - maybe this _is_ better.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm probably not doing a great job of sticking to these themes, haha... oh well.**


	8. Companion

"Ilia -"

She doesn't respond.

His heart sits in his stomach like a stone. It's been there ever since he first reunited with Ilia - and discovered that she doesn't remember him at all. She doesn't even know her own name. Of course she won't respond to it.

 _"What's your name?"_ she had asked him.

Who knew such a simple question could break someone so completely?

Swallowing the lump gathering in his throat, he taps her shoulder. She's sitting beside the Zora prince's bed in Elde Inn, watching his breathing, making sure he's all right. But at his touch, she turns her gaze to meet his.

"Oh! L...Leo, was it?"

Leo. _Leo._

This girl - his friend since childhood, the one who knew his fears and hopes and dreams and feelings, the one who sometimes knew him better than he knew himself, the one he had been intending to _marry -_

Forgetting his name.

He dons a smiling mask, even though his eyes betray grief. "Link," he corrects her. It takes all his strength to force his voice not to crack.

"Oh, dear... I'm so sorry." She offers him a sheepish smile, the faintest blush dotting her cheeks. Familiar blush. Familiar cheeks. Familiar kind green eyes.

But not Ilia.

She nervously rubs her arms, averting her eyes from his. "I don't know how I can ever thank you enough for what you've done. You saved this poor boy's life..." She looks at the Zora prince, a faint smile tilting her lips upward. "The shaman said he's going to get better."

Link nods once. "Yes... I'm sure he will."

 _But will you?_

"Anyway -" Ilia flicks her gaze to his, and he tries hard not to look away - "is there anything I can do for you? I'm afraid I can't do much to help you, but I can certainly try."

"No, I..." _I just want you to remember._

Looking into her eyes is difficult. Those beautiful, shimmering forest-green depths. They're the same as ever - or so they should be. But they're different. They're dull, and confused, and lost, lacking memory and warmth and life.

He wishes he could help her. "Actually, I wondered if I could do anything to help _you."_

Ilia blinks in surprise. "What? But you've already done so much..."

"Yes, but -" Desperation claws at his voice, makes it a little higher and a little shakier, and he quickly stops himself before it gets any worse.

She gives him that lovely, kind smile. And even though she isn't the girl he knows anymore, that smile is still so unmistakably hers.

So much that it makes his heart ache.

"I think you should just rest, after everything you've done. You must be exhausted."

He can only nod, numb.

Her smile brightens. "Thank you again, Link. I so wish I could repay you... please don't hesitate to ask if you ever need anything, all right?"

He can't bring himself to remind her. Can't bring himself to speak her name aloud. Can't bring himself to try and regain what is already lost. He forces a tenuous smile in return, and leaves without another word, not trusting himself to speak.

And when he passes through the broken doorframe of the room inside poor, ruined Elde Inn, he is stopped by a familiar deep voice -

"Link."

The young Hylian turns to face the man standing there beside him. Renado, of course. He tries to smile, and forces himself to speak even though he doesn't want to. "Thank you for what you did for that boy."

Renado sighs. "Yes," is his absentminded response. But his dull gaze tells Link that the man's mind is elsewhere. "About that girl -"

"Ilia." And for the first time in his life, the name tastes bitter on his tongue.

The shaman's brow lifts a fraction. "Ilia, then. It would not be wise to remind her of her past. It might... Well, I'm not sure, to be honest. This memory loss is like no normal memory loss I've ever seen. It could..."

But he trails off.

Link's brows knit together in concern. "What is it?"

"It might be caused by that strange, everlasting Twilight we suffered not too long ago..."

Silence. The only sound is that of a lonely torch flickering on a wall nearby.

"Of course," Renado continues, clearing his throat, "I don't have much evidence for that. I might be completely incorrect in every way possible. It's just that, her loss of memory doesn't seem quite right, and the fact that it happened around the time of the strange Twilight..."

Link can't bring himself to say anything. He can only stare, eyes blank, at his boots.

The shaman lays a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Link. She will find herself in time. But do not push her there. Do not try to force her memories on her. Do not even remind her of her name."

"What?" Blue eyes, suddenly sharp, flick up to meet Renado's. "That's - but - how can she ever regain her memories if she isn't guided along the path to them?"

"I don't know." He shakes his head grimly. "I consider myself knowledgeable in Hyrule's magic, but not in any of the... _darker_ forms. If this were caused by a spell I understood, then I would know. But it isn't. I don't dare toy with magic I don't understand. For all we know, forcibly reminding her might be the only way to help."

"Then why don't we -"

"Or it might drive her mad."

Link stares, unblinking, at the man. "Mad?"

"If she loses her mind, Link, she'll never regain her memories. As it is now, she at least has a chance. But if we make one single mistake..."

The Hylian clenches his hands into fists. Gritting his teeth, he averts his troubled gaze. "This is ridiculous."

"I know. But you must not push her. I don't know what it will do to her."

He swallows heavily. The lump in his throat grows, and his stomach flops. "...All right. I won't," he finally agrees.

Renado offers a wan smile. "Good."

The man probably wants to say more - Link can tell by his expression, and the way his lips part again - but he can't take another second of this. Head lowered, he strides down the stairs and bursts out the door of the inn, hair falling to cover his darkened eyes.

He doesn't stop walking, even when he's knee-deep in the sacred spirit's spring. Even when he climbs up the tiny waterfall and chest-high water soaks his clothes. Only then does he stop, leaning against a rock jutting from the pool, unable to support his own weight anymore. His hands tremble. His jaw clenches. He wants to sink beneath the pool and let it wash away all his feelings of grief and frustration.

Unfortunately life doesn't work that way.

"Honestly," a voice comes from his shadow, warped by the water, "it isn't that big of a deal."

 _And what would you know?_ he wants to snap.

But he doesn't. Only stands there, staring at shaking hands as if they hold the answer to all of this.

The shadowy imp leaps up from the water to float before him, legs folded midair. "What's the problem?"

"She's forgotten everything, that's the problem," he hisses from between clenched teeth. "She forgot everything, and everyone... _me._ I... I, I was going to marry her."

Midna's eye narrows. "You _were?"_

"If she doesn't even know me, how can I? She doesn't care about me anymore, I'm just a _stranger!"_ His shaking, gloved fist slams into the rock beside him, making his skin throb and no doubt already starting to form a bruise. But he doesn't care. Nothing matters anymore.

"Whoa! Calm down, doggie!" Midna shakes her index finger at him. "No need to get so worked up about it. Remember what that healer guy said? Something like, 'she'll find herself eventually' or whatever it was."

"Yeah, but..." His head lowers, hair falling in his eyes, his nose, his mouth, but he doesn't have the strength to care.

"But what, stupid? Don't you trust him? He seems like a decent enough guy, I guess."

"Well -"

But she interrupts him. "So then trust him! If he says she'll remember eventually, then who knows, she probably will. But besides all that... she's safe. That's all that matters, isn't it?"

Is she -

Is she trying to _comfort_ him?

He lifts his head, brushing messy hair away from his face and blinking at her in surprise. For a moment only silence passes between them. Gentle moonlight streams silver upon the world, turning the water white beneath its kind gaze. A cool breeze whispers soothing words in his ears - and he actually finds himself _smiling._

Just a little. But still smiling.

"You're right," he finally manages to say.

"I know. I'm always right." She flashes him a cheeky grin. And without another word, she dives into his shadow again.

The water laps at him, thoroughly drenching his clothes and sending a chill through his skin. But he ignores it. Strangely enough, he feels... peaceful. Peaceful despite the grief, and the frustration, and the worry. The little imp really isn't so bad after all.

"Midna?"

"Hmm?" she sighs from his shadow.

He shuts his eyes, allows himself to shiver in the cool night, and his smile widens. "Thank you."


	9. Move

Stupid water temple. Stupid Zoras. Stupid _everything._

He feels like a child as he kicks a loose stone out of his path and huffs, but he's too irritated to care. Midna only giggles from his shadow.

Of course the Zoras had to build a gigantic maze of a temple at the very bottom of a deep lake. It had been created to torture him. Obviously.

He opens one door. Wrong room. Backtracks, opens another. Wrong room. Backtracks again, opens yet another.

 _Wrong room! Who would have guessed?_ he thinks to himself with a grunt of annoyance. And then immediately afterward, he thinks that maybe Midna's sarcasm has rubbed off on him a little _too_ much.

Shaking his head to himself, he backtracks yet again.

"Hey, stupid wolf," Midna sighs. "As entertaining as it is to watch you stumble around like an idiot, don't you think you should actually... oh, I don't know, go somewhere _useful?"_

"I'm trying," comes his tired response, "but this place is... it's just really confusing."

She leaps up from his shadow, hands hanging loose and bored to her sides. "Try that door," she suggests, pointing.

He swears he's already tried that one before. But, not wanting to offend her, he gives an exhausted shrug and goes to follow her advice anyway.

It leads into a hallway he hasn't seen before.

"Oh, thank Farore," he breathes.

"I told you so!" Midna sings.

"Thanks," he mutters. And he can't help feeling like an idiot for never entering a door that was _right_ in front of his face. Grumbling some kind of complaint to himself that even he can't quite make out, he trudges through the hallway and opens the door on the other side of it.

There's hardly a second to take in the fact that he's standing atop a gigantic gear before a lizalfos rushes at him.

Eyes wide, his fingers lunge to draw the sword from its sheath at his back, purely out of reflex and nothing more. The lizalfos cackles at him, a strange garbled noise, blade held tight in its right hand.

Then blades clash. Steel rings against steel. The bestial roar of the creature echoes across wet stone walls, and the grating of sword against sword as Link grits his teeth and pushes his enemy back.

The lizalfos bares its teeth. Tail lashing, it leaps to the side, nimble as a cat, easily dodging its enemy. Not expecting the sudden lack of resistance against his weapon, the Hylian stumbles forward, only barely managing to regain his balance before he falls flat on his face.

An opportunity.

The creature seizes it.

Giving a cry of victory, it lunges for the young man, sword poised to pierce through his ribs and to his heart.

Link watches from the corner of his frantic eyes. He tries to turn to run, but he isn't fast enough, Goddesses help him, heart hammering and terrified -

"Hey! You!"

A tiny shadow appears before the beast.

Shocked, the lizalfos stumbles back, silent. There it stays - only for a moment. Then it tries to slash its sword at Midna.

Of course the blade only passes through her incorporeal form. The imp laughs at the creature's petty attempt to harm her, and tauntingly folds her arms across her chest. "Come get me!" she calls, sing-song, floating as far away from Link as possible.

Palms sweating, eyes wide, throat dry, he watches as the pathetic lizalfos tries and fails to attack the shadow. And Midna's giggles only serve to enrage it all the more.

 _Now's my chance,_ he thinks as he watches the creature turn its back to him.

So he lunges.

But whether by instinct or something else - the lizalfos whirls, sword clashing with his a mere second before it had sliced through its neck. Teeth ground together, Link ignores his erratic heartbeat and sweating hands as he pushes against his foe's blade.

Somehow the monster wins.

Giving a taunting, garbled cry, it manages to push him back, feet sliding helplessly against the strange gear beneath him. His eyes narrow. Hand tightens round the hilt in a white-knuckle grip. But he can do nothing. Nothing to stop the monster.

"Hey!" Midna calls, voice tinged with panic. "Over here, brainless! Come get me!"

The monster ignores her.

It jerks its blade away from Link's, eyes gleaming with victory. Shimmering silver sword pierces the air.

And stabs into Link's side.

The blade cuts his mail like butter, parting tight-knit metal scales and driving into his flesh. For a moment he feels nothing. He can only stare, wide eyed, heart stopped, at the lizalfos, wishing he could have moved a little faster to block the attack...

A foot slams into his abdomen.

With a cry Link falls onto his back, crashing to the unmoving gear beneath.

 _Now_ he feels the wound.

Warm liquid leaks from his side, staining his Zora tunic red. It burns. Dear Nayru it _burns._ He squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth in a futile attempt to ignore the pain.

Keeping its bestial foot planted firmly onto his stomach, the creature gloats, lifting its head to the ceiling and allowing a terrible laugh to rumble in its throat.

"You - you piece of scum!" Midna snarls, hair forming a giant orange hand and slapping the beast right in the face.

Or, that's what it's supposed to do, but it just passes through the creature's head.

But at her sudden movement it stops. Stops and stares at the shadow in confusion for a moment.

Link seizes his chance.

Despite the pain, the throbbing and the burning in his side, he reaches up, grabs the monster's leg - and throws it to the ground.

The lizalfos screeches in shock, yellow eyes wide. But it recovers impossibly fast - and throws its scaly arms around Link's torso, keeping him pinned helplessly to the floor.

Link grits his teeth and thrashes. And then they're grappling, a confusing mess of twisting limbs and angry fists, and the poor Hylian can't ever tell what is up and what is down. The sticky blood pouring from his side makes him nauseous. And that doesn't help matters.

Suddenly -

Suddenly there's just _nothing_ beneath him, and with a jolt of purest terror he realizes he's falling off the edge of the gear. He hadn't even noticed until now that there's a deep, black, empty pit of death below it.

A scream claws his throat and tears from tense lips. And with fingers shaking uncontrollably, he latches onto the edge of that gear for dear life.

Somewhere above him a sharp gasp reaches his long ears. And - "Link!"

 _Link...?_

Only then does he notice the lizalfos beside him, stuck in much the same horrible predicament as he is. Its scaly hands clutch the edge of the gear, whimpers of fright drilling in its throat.

He stares at it. And it stares back.

His fingers white with panic scrabble at the edge, desperate for purchase. And through some divine miracle, he finds it. Heart thumping erratically within his chest, he manages - somehow - to pull himself up onto the safety of the gear's flat surface once again. Then he can only _collapse,_ chest heaving and hands uncontrollable.

The poor lizalfos still hangs on the edge.

With a great deal of effort Link manages to stand. Clutching his wounded side with clenched teeth, he shuffles, exhausted, to his foe. A tiny shadow of pity dulls his gaze when he stares at the terrified creature hanging off the edge, yellow eyes pleading up at him. But then the shadow is gone. And he kicks the monster's fingers away from their only hope of survival.

The lizalfos falls, thrashing, screaming, into the darkness, until the abyss swallows it whole.

Link can only stand there. His sides shudder with labored breath. A shaking hand presses hard against his wound, but to no avail; hot blood still seeps through his fingers and dyes them red.

"Link," Midna breathes, floating to his side and reaching to him as if to help - but then she narrows her single visible eye, remembering her intangible form, and her lip curls in anger. "Ugh! You _brainless fool,_ you could have gotten yourself killed!"

And though his side burns, and his throat is dry, and his breath sometimes hitches in his throat, he can't help smiling. He meets her gaze. She cocks a brow in response. "What's that stupid look for?" she grumbles. "You're hurt. You shouldn't be smiling..."

"You called me Link," he manages to say. "Twice."

It's the first time she's ever referred to him by name - except for when the spirit Faron had called him "Link", and Midna had uttered the name, mostly to herself, but that doesn't count. Not to him. It had always been "stupid wolf", "idiot", "doggie", "fool", or some other derogatory term...

But Link. _Link!_ It makes him much happier than it should to hear his name on her lips.

She rolls her eyes. "Don't get used to it. And patch yourself up before you bleed to death, _idiot!"_

She emphasizes that last part. But it still doesn't sour his suddenly high spirits.

Why does he care so much?

Reaching into his satchel with a weak hand, he produces a bottle of sacred spring water and downs it in a single gulp. Then he stuffs the empty bottle back into his satchel and exchanges it for bandages. Peeling off his tunics is a chore - especially with his side the way it is - but he manages, somehow. And he also manages, somehow, to tie the bandages around his torso, red blood tainting the pure white fabric.

Midna only watches him the entire time. Watches the blood seep through the wrappings, and bites her lip.

Link peers at her through disheveled bangs. But upon seeing her expression, he quickly ducks his head again, trying to hide the pathetic smile that never really leaves his face, for whatever stupid reason.

"Are you actually concerned about me?" he dares to ask, a smirk in his voice, despite the situation.

And he's shocked when Midna doesn't respond right away. She's got a quick, sharp tongue, always lashing like a whip, always with a sarcastic or rude response at her disposal. He can't help looking up again to blink at her in surprise as the silence only stretches longer.

"That isn't any of your business," she finally snaps, narrowing her eyes at him.

Though he wants to, he elects not to respond. Instead he begins to don his tunics again, grinding his teeth together at the pain the simple action causes.

"What are you doing?"

"We have to keep going, don't we?" Link settles his hat - this one blue - atop his head once more and starts forward across the strange unmoving gear, toward a door on its other side.

"Not with your side like that!" Midna protests, floating along behind him with a huff.

He stops right in front of the door. Unable to resist, he turns his head a little, glancing at her over his shoulder. "You _do_ care...!" And he grins.

She clenches tiny hands into tiny fists. "Shut up, stupid dog!" And with another huff of annoyance, she dives into his shadow. "Fine. Continue on. Overexert yourself and die. See if I care!"

His grin widens. Instead of replying, he crosses into the next room to obey her.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who has read and reviewed so far - you guys are awesome, and you make my day! :D**


	10. Silver

He breaks the water's surface and can only be grateful for sunlight.

Gulping fresh air and wiping water from his eyes, Link floats at the lake's surface, a tiny smile on his lips. After suffering through dank, dark rooms for days upon days, with only scant torchlight to guide him, it's wonderful to feel the warmth of the sun again and see the horizon painted pink with dusk.

Claiming the final Fused Shadow hadn't been nearly as difficult as he'd been expecting. It involved a lot of swimming - which, with a wounded side, had been painful - but the monster guarding the last piece of the magical artifact hadn't been too hard of an obstacle to overcome.

Or maybe he's just getting stronger. Is that too much hope for?

"Link..." Midna appears before him, form shadowy as it always is in the realm of light.

He really can't help savoring the sound of his name on her tongue. It feels wonderful to hear it from her. And though he considers himself an idiot for even thinking something so ridiculous, he feels he's earned it - what with how cruel she's been to him, and what with how patient he's tried to be in return. Just hearing his name instead of "stupid wolf" all the time is refreshing.

"Hmm?" he sighs, exhausted, swimming weakly toward shore.

The little imp floats along behind him, hands hanging to her sides, as if she isn't quite sure what to do with them. "You're bleeding again."

He glances down to his side, the same side that stupid lizalfos had stabbed, and only grunts in annoyance. Of course with all the swimming he's been forced to do, the wound won't stop reopening. The pain is so constant that he's almost just forgotten about it altogether. "I know," he grumbles.

"Well, do something about it, stupid!" Midna huffs. "I don't need you bleeding to death on me!"

He climbs ashore, sheets of water cascading down his clothes to return to the lake. Long flippers slap atop intricately carved stone steps. The sound echoes around him, and into the cave mouth yawning before him. He grits his teeth in irritation at the noise. "I'll get some more spring water."

"Good!" The imp leaps into his shadow again.

Peeling off the uncomfortable flippers to reveal his normal leather boots underneath, he stuffs them into his satchel - even though they don't fit - and shuffles sluggishly into the spirit's spring. A thin grassy ledge hangs over the deep pool, but he avoids it, instead opting to head down a slope on the right side and kneel at the shore of the spring.

He pulls off his tunics. The simple movement causes his wound to burn and throb. He grits his teeth to prevent a groan of pain from escaping his throat.

"I'll take those for you." Suddenly Midna's floating in front of him, legs crossed. With a snap of her fingers his clothes vanish, leaving him with only trousers.

He casts her a listless glance. "Thanks, but... can I have my other clothes back now?"

She grins. "Yeah, sure. But take care of yourself first, got it?" She points to the spring water.

With a heavy, exhausted sigh that makes his side hurt all over again, he produces two empty glass bottles from his satchel and fills them with sacred water. One, he drinks; the other he pours on his wound before refilling both the bottles and then tucking them away. Then he begins the tiring process of patching himself up with the last of his bandages. It shouldn't be tiring, actually, but to someone wounded and in desperate need of sleep, it's a monumental chore.

After he's finished, he only stares, eyes dull and thoughtful, at the gently-lapping pool before him. "Is it... Is it finally over?" he murmurs.

Midna blinks at him. "Over?"

"We have all three pieces of the Fused Shadow." He turns his tired eyes to her bright red ones. "There's... nothing much else to do, is there? I've completed my quest. I did what you told me to do."

She turns her head away, folding her arms across her chest and biting her shadowy lip. "I guess you're right - but we still need to defeat Zant. That's why we gathered the Fused Shadows in the first place. We can't face him without them."

Link's shoulders drop.

 _I have to do more?_

All he wants to do is return to Kakariko Village, and see the children and Ilia again, and sleep... And then maybe try to figure out a way to return Ilia's memory to her. The poor girl, she must be so lost and confused without it, not even knowing her own name. He wishes he could remind her of it.

But despite the exhaustion - despite the pain in his side - "How do we find Zant?"

"We - we have to find something called the..." Midna shuts her eyes. "None of your business right now, wolfy. I'll show you how to do it and you'll follow my lead. Understood?"

"Understood..." He looks away again, staring at his reflection in the clear water, a reflection of pale skin and black bags beneath once-shining azure eyes. Now they're just filled with a clear desire to sleep. "But can I take a nap first?"

Midna cocks a brow at him. For a moment her lips part, as if she's ready to say something scathing like she usually does - though, admittedly, she's been getting better lately - but then she shuts her mouth again and shrugs. "Do whatever you want, I guess... Besides, I probably need a nap too."

He offers her a tired smile. "Can I have my clothes now?"

Rolling her eyes, the imp snaps her fingers, and his regular tunics - not the Zora ones - fall from the air and into his lap. He can't help chuckling, a breathy, exhausted chuckle, at the sight of it. "That's so convenient," he mutters aloud, wishing he had similar powers.

He pulls his white tunic over his head, and debates on whether or not he should don the rest of them. After all, he's just going to take a nap - why sleep in mail armor and a heavy green tunic? But then he decides that he should at least _try_ to get to Kakariko and have Renado check his wound.

With a grimace he manages to pull on his other two tunics and stick his signature green hat on his head. He stands and slowly makes his way toward the entrance of the spring. "What are you doing?" Midna questions, floating along behind him. "I thought we were both going to take a nap."

"I think... I should probably get to Kakariko and ask Renado if there's anything wrong with my wound," he explains to her. But then he stops, and turns around.

 _"Now_ what are you doing?" the imp grumbles, stopping when he does and following his gaze.

He peers into the spirit's spring, the deep, clear waters, and watches them bathe the shore in silver. In truth, he wants to ask the spirit about how to find Zant - but he's quite sure he'd upset Midna if he did. She seems insistent on showing him rather than telling.

So he just yawns, shakes his head, and turns around -

\- and crashes into a towering wall of black.

Surprised, Link stumbles backward, confused eyes lifting to study the sudden obstacle. They sweep along flowing black robes embroidered with blue, a strange pattern on the chest, and then - and then. A terrible stone mask, demon's eyes bulging, carved tongue curled long to hide the wearer's mouth.

Link's heart skips a beat. He can't even find the voice to gasp.

 _Who - ?_

Beside him he hears Midna try to speak, but before she can even say anything coherent at all - the strange robed figure sweeps an arm through the air. It feels as if a gigantic invisible hand curls its fingers tight around Link, and throws him to the ground right on his wounded side, ripping a shout of both pain and shock from his throat.

"Link!" Midna cries, but can't do anything to help him, shadow as she is.

The snake-spirit Lanayru lunges forth from the pool, fangs bared to attack - but it can't move. Can't do anything, as if it, too, is being bound by an invisible force. Only then does Link see the figure pointing a finger at it. It thrashes, tail slapping the water and sending sheets of foamy liquid flying into the air - but all for naught.

By the same invisible power, the robed form flicks a finger, and the ball of light swirling in Lanayru's mouth simply vanishes. The snake wails - a terrible, agonized sound that pierces the stone walls and echoes across the round cavern.

Link tries to stand. Tries to move at all, but he can't, the pain in his side screaming anew. He releases an involuntary moan of pain and just lies there, unsure of what to do.

The spirit Lanayru fades into nothing. And then black specks rise from the pool where it had once resided. For some reason, the fallen Hylian thinks as he tries to push himself up with trembling arms, the room glows a distinct and unnatural orange color.

Oh Goddesses.

 _Twilight._

Not Twilight, not here, not now, not when he had already worked so hard to banish it from the land -

Then his bones crack, and morph, and muscle stretches and he cries out in pain. He collapses again, a beast in the Twilight.

"Zant!" Midna snarls, no longer draped in darkness. Now she's all blue skin, glowing cyan markings, and narrowed, angry sunset eye.

The figure does not respond. He merely flicks his hand again, and Midna flies across the room against her will with a shout of protest. There she hangs in the air above the spring, kicking her small legs in vain as if to break unseen bonds.

And the Fused Shadows -

Link can only watch in horror as they appear out of nowhere, the ancient fragments he had worked so hard to get, and the robed being simply tosses them aside and into nothingness once again with a simple flick of his wrist.

"Did you honestly think you could defy me with such an old, weakened power?" the being chuckles, voice deep and dark and grating.

"Give them _back,_ Zant," Midna commands.

Obviously he doesn't. "Foolish traitor," he hisses. "Why do you defy your king?"

"My king. My king! You?" And despite the situation, she actually _laughs,_ a cold, humorless laugh. "You're not my king. You do nothing but abuse the power you should be using for _good!"_

"Are you implying..." Though a mask still covers his face, there's an obvious grin in his voice. "That my magic is our ancestors' magic? No, Midna. This is the power of my _god!"_ And he slams her to the ground so hard that dirt flies up around her in a cloud, and she can only whimper in pain. "I will show you how to respect it."

 _Midna!_ Link tries to go to her, but he still can't quite move.

She pushes herself up with shaking arms, glances over her shoulder with her single visible eye wide in panic, as Zant forms a ball of dark magic near his chest.

 _What is he doing?_ Link wonders, staring with blurred vision at the dark figure before him. _Is he - is he going to hurt Midna?_

And in a sudden surge of anger, he stumbles to his paws, even though his side bleeds and the world spins for a moment. With a snarl bubbling in his throat he leaps to attack -

\- but crashes uselessly into the ball.

For a second he only hovers there in the air, confused, wondering why he isn't falling, and why Zant remains unfazed. And then the wolf collapses to the ground with a yelp, squeezes his eyes shut, some sort of strange pain stabbing his head. He can feel Midna's tiny hands on his muzzle, and she might be calling for him - "Link? Link! _Link!"_ but he doesn't know, because everything's fading away.

Then her hands are gone from his face.

"He's a light-dweller, Midna," Zant whispers, and Link forces his eyes open, only to see the cruel figure holding her close with that strange invisible power of his. "Have you forgotten what his people did to us? Forsake him."

"No!" she growls.

"My Midna... Listen to me." The tongue of his mask curls upward, revealing just his chin and lips, blue like the imp's, with two strange slits on either side. He's smirking, a foul expression that belongs only on the face of a _demon._

No doubt that's exactly what he is.

"I can return your power to you," he whispers into her ear, voice cruel and dark. "I can return _everything_ to you. Everything you once knew and loved... if only you will lend me your power."

She pauses.

Pauses in thought, narrowing her eyes, as if mulling over his words in her mind. Link wants to call to her, beg her not to betray him after all he's done for her, all the pain he's suffered to collect those Fused Shadows...

But he can't do anything about it. He can only lie there on the grassy floor of the once-peaceful spirit's spring, wondering to himself if he's bleeding to death.

Then, finally -

"I won't," Midna murmurs, gaze lowered.

"What?"

She turns her crimson eye to glare at Zant. "I won't!" she snarls, teeth bared, single fang poking out from beneath her upper lip.

The stone tongue falls to cover its wearer's face once again. Zant takes a step back, that single footfall heavy and echoing in the Twilight, and he only stands there for a moment as if disappointed. "So be it," he finally snaps, and throws her above the spirit's spring, where there she stays, helpless in his unseen grasp. "I will return you to the world of light you covet!"

She flails, fights against Zant's power, but can do nothing to break free from it. "What - what do you mean?" she dares to ask, voice trembling in fear.

The dark form lifts his hand again. Suddenly the spirit's swirling ball of light rises from the pool of water. Lanayru appears behind it, clutching it in its mouth, the Twilight slowly dissolving in the wake of its white glow.

Golden light bathes the little imp. She screams in agony, the sound bouncing off stone cavern walls, and piercing deep into Link's heart, making him cringe.

 _What's happening? What's happening?!_

But there's no answer. She squeezes her eyes shut, as if to block the light - but to no avail. It utterly envelops her, buries her until her cries of pain fade into silence.

That silence is even more chilling than her wails.

And suddenly everything's chaos around him, the world spinning, and then black, and before he can even make sense of anything, unconsciousness overtakes him.

* * *

He wakes to rain, and open sky, and wet grass beneath paws.

 _Paws?_

But - he isn't in the Twilight. Why is he still a wolf? What's happening? Where is he? Somewhere in Hyrule Field, it seems, endless expanses of long grass stretching before his gaze, night sky blanketed beneath a cover of clouds.

A shaky, wheezing breath interrupts his thoughts.

Only then does he notice the familiar weight on his back. He hurriedly casts a glance over his shoulder only to see Midna there.

But something isn't right.

There's black where blue is supposed to be, and silver where black is supposed to be. Her hair hangs limp and blue over her shoulders, not the fiery orange color he's accustomed to. But more than any of that - she's not a shadow. Not a shadow in a world of light.

And she's draped over his back, nearly unmoving, barely breathing at all.

A ball of light floats above him, and he lifts his gaze to stare at it in panic, eyes begging for some kind of solution to all of this.

"I have done all I could," a familiar, ethereal voice echoes from the light. "Go to the princess in the castle. She holds the key to unlock you from your bestial form."

"I don't care about my 'bestial form'! What do I do about Midna?!" he tries to say, but only a frantic bark leaves his black lips.

Of course the spirit doesn't understand. And it vanishes without another word of explanation.

Link can only hope that Princess Zelda will know how to help the little imp on his back. The _dying_ imp. For surely she's dying there, barely breathing as she is, tiny body so weak and so frail. Throat suddenly gone dry, he casts her another glance, only to see her clutching weakly at his fur.

She tries to speak. Tries to say anything, but it's clear she can't.

 _Hold on tight, Midna, please. Wait for me,_ he thinks with a whine in his throat. And then without another moment of hesitation he sprints away, across the darkened field, paws splashing in puddles of rainwater.

The clouds are silver. The rain is silver. The water running beneath the bridge is silver, the moon peeking between shifting clouds is silver, it's _all_ silver, just like her, mocking him and the dying Midna and his desperation.

His tongue lolls frantic from his maw as his paws drum a steady rhythm beneath him. Rain, once gentle, pounds against him, seeps through his thick coat of fur and soaks his skin. He feels tiny fingers curl in his sopping fur, and hears a shuddering, desperate plea for air from the imp on his back.

 _Please, Goddesses, help me, I'm not going nearly fast enough..._

He doesn't stop to think why he cares so much. Or why his side doesn't hurt or bleed - courtesy of the light spirit.

All it could do to help.

A bulblin stops him, garbled cry echoing through the rainy night. It nocks an arrow to its bow, aims -

\- and drops dead before it can fire.

Link stands atop its corpse, teeth buried in its throat, and he doesn't even remember killing it. Eyes wide in panic, chest heaving, he draws his teeth out of the fallen monster's flesh, blood dripping from his mouth.

He doesn't even have time to care about the beast he has become.

He gives himself not a second to rest before he's running again, tail lashing the cold air behind him, Midna's labored breath a ceaseless discordant harmony to the falling rain and his desperate paws.

Then she gasps - and slips -

He barks, frantic and high, and stops before she can fall. By some miracle - thank the sweet Golden Goddesses - she manages to right herself, and clutches just a little tighter to his fur.

And as soon as she does, he runs again.

 _We still have a long way to go... Please, Midna, just don't die._

* * *

Narrow, winding stone staircase. Ever upward. A princess stands imprisoned at the top. A princess he desperately needs.

Thankfully, when he finally reaches the door, it's hanging slightly ajar. With a quiet sigh of relief that comes out as more of a whine, he noses it open and slips inside the bleak chambers beyond.

Moonlight spills a pale square onto the stone floor from the window. Black nose twitching, Link cautiously ventures further into the room, Princess Zelda's scent entering his nostrils despite the obvious lack of her presence.

Or, is she behind him?

He turns - and feels the imp's grip on his fur loosen, then she's slipping off his back. With a frantic yip he looks to her, but can do nothing as she falls motionless to the floor with a tiny thud.

Eyes widening in panic, he nuzzles her arm, sniffs at her strange silver skin, searching for any sign of life. He thanks the Goddesses when he notices her chest still rising and falling.

Zelda steps forth from the shadows then, black cloak covering her form. A gloved hand reaches down to the fallen imp. "Midna...?" Though her hood drapes most her features in shadow, Link can see her gray-blue eyes flick to his in question. He only gives her a panicked look in response.

"P...Ple...ase... Princess."

Link's heart drops to hear Midna's voice so weak.

"He's... the only one... who can... save your people. H...help him..."

The wolf stares at the fallen creature's small, frail body, and can do nothing more, stomach twisting into nervous knots as her breathing seems to weaken even further.

Zelda lifts her hand to him, Triforce glowing golden on its back. After a moment she curls her fingers and lets her hand drop to her side once more. "The curse that binds him is not one that my power can combat. However... Such as there is light to drive away darkness, so, too, is there benevolence to banish evil." She stares at him with piercing, stormy eyes. "If you wish to regain your true form, seek the Master Sword within the Sacred Grove. As the Blade of Evil's Bane, it will cleave the darkness that cloaks you."

He hardly even listens to her. It's Midna that his eyes are fixed on, unable to move or barely even blink.

"Fine... L...Link," the dying imp manages to say. "You can... get there... on your own, right?"

 _No!_ He whines at her. _I don't care about myself, what about you? How do I save you?_

"But, I have one last favor... to ask." Midna shuts her eyes. Link's heart skips a beat. Is this it? Are these her final words? "Tell him... where to find... the Mirror of Twilight."

Zelda gasps.

Silence shrouds the room. Even the rain outside has stopped, leaving only the clouds to shift and cover the moon's glowing face. The room plunges into darkness.

"Midna," Princess Zelda murmurs, taking the imp's hand into both of hers, "I think I finally understand just who and what you are."

Finally Link's gaze lifts away from Midna's form. He can only stare at Zelda in confusion, wondering what in the world she's talking about, and due to his wolf form he can't ask any questions.

"All the pain inflicted upon you... is our fault. I am so sorry. Midna -" She pauses to take a deep breath, and squeeze her eyes shut - "Accept this now. I pass it to you."

"Wh...what?" Midna's eyes fly open, focusing on the princess before her as her cloaked form begins to glow. Surprised, Link takes a cautious step back, watching as white light envelops her.

"No!" Midna gasps, voice suddenly much stronger. "Link - stop her!"

 _Stop what?!_ He can only bark in reply, utterly confused.

Zelda opens her eyes again; smiles gently as the light swallows Midna too, and the little imp shouts something in protest.

But all too late. Suddenly the light fades, and the Hylian princess collapses to the floor, unmoving. Midna floats down from the air to land beside Link, silver gone from her body, restored to blue skin and cyan marks and fiery hair. She stands without trouble and only stares at the fallen princess with lips pressed into a grim line.

The wolf blinks in bewilderment.

 _Is she dead?_

He takes a cautious step toward her, and doesn't see her chest moving at all. Midna squeezes her eyes shut and says nothing in the way of an explanation, even when he desperately nuzzles her in question.

Then footsteps ring outside the darkened chambers.

Midna's eyes flash open in panic. "Someone's coming! Link, we have to go, hurry!" She points her finger toward the ground, and there a portal appears, blue markings webbing its surface and black specks of Twilight rising from within.

Link, for just a moment, forgets all his confusion and only frantically steps into the portal. Immediately he dissolves into a hundred little black squares and teleports away.

Midna goes to follow - but for a moment she stops. Just stops, and glances over her shoulder at the selfless Princess Zelda's prone form.

"Zelda," she mutters to only the dank air, "I have taken all you had to give, though I did not want it."

Then without another moment's hesitation she steps into the portal and vanishes.

* * *

 **A/N: Oh boy. Not sure how I feel about this one. I wanted to do this part justice, but I dunno if I succeeded. I feel like it kinda jumps around a lot and... stuff. Blah. Too tired to think, whatever. xD**

 **Anyway, if all of you are screaming at me, "Zelda doesn't fall over at the end of that scene! She vanishes!" Yes. I've played the game many times, I know that. But if I were writing a novelization of Twilight Princess, this is one of the things I would change, because frankly this part in the game doesn't make sense to me and I think having it happen like this is better. And yeah, I'm not writing a novelization of Twilight Princess, so I probably shouldn't care so much, but I can't help it. Hopefully it'll all make sense to you guys later on.**


	11. Prepared

He stops to peer at the imp on his back.

For a moment she only sits there, gaze lifted to peer at the tops of the tall trees, shafts of light streaming through leafy canopies. It takes her a while to notice that the wolf isn't moving anymore.

And when she does, she shoots him a glare. "What are you doing, stupid? Go!"

It's infuriating that he can't talk, really. He can't voice the question on his mind. So instead he just stares at her, hoping that his eyes will convey the message.

Midna narrows her eyes. "What's that look for?" she murmurs, averting her gaze. "If you're still worried about me, then... uh, thanks. But don't be. I'm fine. All thanks to... to Princess Zelda..." Then she trails off, and bites her lip, squeezing her eyes shut.

Link only continues staring at her, trying to figure her out. Even after all the time he's spent with her, she's still a mystery. An infuriating little mystery of an imp with a mask like horns spiraling from her head. He's never actually seen her remove it before.

"Well?" Midna recovers from her silence and pats his neck - gently, unlike in the past, and he's grateful for it. "Start going. Unless you want to be a wolf for the rest of your life?"

This time he obeys her. With a wolfish huff he continues on through the woods, eerie and silent, a light mist settling through the trees like spiderwebs. Only the sound of his paws echo through the grove.

 _The Sacred Grove._ Where the Master Sword lies, and where he will regain his true form. Or so Zelda had said. He hopes she's right.

But the Master Sword - Blade of Evil's Bane, legendary weapon wielded only by those chosen heroes pure in heart - is it truly his to claim? Of course the Light Spirits had all told him of his destiny to be a hero... but were they right? Is that truly what he is? Will the Master Sword reject him?

He isn't sure if the thought is calming - calming because then he could shrug away the responsibilities heaped upon him and return to live in peaceful Ordon - or if it's terrifying. Terrifying, because he almost _wants_ to be the hero, _wants_ to know that he has some sort of purpose in this world, _wants_ to be useful, _wants_ to save his friends and the beautiful kingdom in which they live. A part of him would love to return home and just relax. The other part of him hates the idea of being so useless when the world is in such turmoil around him.

Midna is uncharacteristically silent through his journey, leaving him with only his thoughts for company. She's been that way ever since their latest encounter with the Hylian princess. He can't help wondering what she's thinking about - but he can't voice the question, and even if he could, he's quite sure she'd tell him to mind his own business. She's like that.

Casting another quick glance over his furry shoulder reveals a very solemn-looking Midna. Her arms are folded loosely across her chest, gaze distant and dulled with deep thought, and blue lips pressed into a thin line.

He tries to bark as quietly as possible to get her attention.

She blinks at the noise, and turns that single visible eye of hers to peer at him. "Ugh. What now?" she sighs.

Neither of them had rested well the night before. She looks exhausted, he _feels_ exhausted... and if he's being totally honest with himself, maybe he just wants to procrastinate claiming the Master Sword. He isn't sure if he's ready to wield it.

So he lays down in the soft grasses of the Sacred Grove, gentle breeze stirring the trees and whispering ancient words nobody can quite understand. For a moment Midna looks as if she's about to protest - but then she only sighs, feeling the cool air tickle her skin, and decides to shut her eyes and relax.

Link can't help smiling at the sight of her sitting on his back, tiny body loose and relaxed, lips just slightly parted as if she wants to whisper back to the wind. He's sure that, as a wolf, he looks ridiculous smiling - but he can't help it.

Then her eyes flutter open again, and she slips off his back, coming to settle at his side. "Fine, we'll rest. I guess we both sort of need it, don't we?"

To his surprise - she smiles, actually smiles, a genuine, peaceful smile, and reaches out a hand to stroke it through the fur on his neck for a moment. Her touch calms him much more than he'd like to admit.

Then with a wide yawn, she grasps her mask - and pulls it right off her head, for the first time since he had met her.

Link watches, eyes wide in surprise, as she snaps her fingers and the mask disappears into thin air. And she removes that strange thing that keeps her hair tied up, too, and strands of liquid fire flow free down her back. Both her eyes pierce like a deep sunset, glowing like the Twilight itself - and he can't help thinking that they're beautiful.

She flicks both of those glowing eyes to his, and cocks a brow. "What are _you_ looking at?" she grumbles.

He quickly averts his gaze, as if to say, _Nothing._

Out of the corner of his eye he can see her grinning. Then she just leans into his side, snuggling against his furry body, and shuts her eyes. "Good night, wolfy," she murmurs into the cool air, even though it's still midday.

He turns his azure eyes to her again, watches as she only drifts off into a peaceful sleep, and even though wolves don't really smile - he smiles anyway.

Maybe bearing the burden of the Master Sword won't be so bad. Not if it's to protect her.


	12. Knowledge

He's an idiot. Yes, he knows that by now.

He'd always denied his destiny as the hero. Denied it even when he had lived his whole life with the mark of the Triforce on the back of his left hand, even when he had been the only one who didn't turn into an oblivious spirit in a realm of shadows, even when four spirits of light had told him of his heroic destiny. No. He wasn't the hero. How could he be? Heroes are made of finer things; shimmering armor, gleaming sword, noble blood, ceaseless bravery.

He is none of those things. He is filthy, torn clothes, bloodied sword, simple farm boy, trembling, weakened limbs and shadows of fear lurking in the corners of his mind.

But there the Master Sword rests in a sheath on the bed, taunting him with calls of destiny and duty and bravery, even when he feels he can do nothing but collapse and sleep for a long while. Perhaps forever.

Even in a place so peaceful as Kakariko Village's little sanctuary - his muscles still tense, and fingers twitch in preparation to draw his sword at a moment's notice.

Nightmares of Zant have been plaguing him. They started the first time he slept after that long, frantic night of rushing a dying Midna to the castle. That first time he slept in the Sacred Grove. And they only worsened when he drew the Blade of Evil's Bane from its pedestal.

 _"The sword accepted you as its master,"_ Midna had breathed in surprise, staring at him wide-eyed.

Of course it had. He's the hero, after all. Or so he's supposed to be, but he doesn't feel like one.

With a tired sigh he forces his rigid shoulders to drop, and his stiff back to slouch. Then he rests his elbows on his knees and buries his face in his hands, wishing only to drown out the world around him for a moment.

"Link?"

Is there no rest for the weary?

He looks up from his hands to face the source of the familiar voice. Of course it's Ilia, who else would it be at a time like this? All he needs right now is _more_ pain.

But despite his pale skin - despite dull gray eyes - despite black bags beneath them - he tries to smile anyway.

Ilia's brow knits together in concern upon seeing his face. "Oh, my... Are you all right?"

"Just fine," he murmurs, even though everything about him betrays that statement.

She clasps her hands over her chest and frowns. "You don't look well. Would you like a glass of water?"

"I... I don't -"

But she interrupts him. "Or some dinner? It's getting quite late, and I didn't see you at the inn when we ate. There are a few leftovers, and they might still be warm." A smile crosses her lips, and she nods, mostly to herself. "Yes. I'll fetch dinner and a drink of water for you. Stay right there!"

Before he can utter a word of protest, she slams the door behind her, and leaves him to silence and red sunset spilling through the windows.

Then an imp appears before him.

No longer blackness shrouds her. No longer a shadow in a world of light. For a moment their eyes meet, faded blue clashing against fire, and then he looks away.

"You look awful. Just sleep already."

"I tried..."

She floats to him and sits on the bed at his side, studying his face with concern. "Well, try again."

"I..." He shuts his eyes and rubs his forehead, brushing filthy hair away from his face. "I can't."

"Why not?"

Will she make fun of him? Taunt him for avoiding necessary rest just because of a few petty nightmares? Clenching his jaw, he buries his face in his hands yet again and heaves a shuddering sigh. "It's nothing."

"Yeah, sure, Mister Hero. Nothing at all. Clearly!" To his surprise - he feels her tiny hand on his arm. "Talk to me, please? What's wrong?"

For a moment all is silence. He only sits there on the soft bed as the seconds tick away and feel like hours. Her hand drops from his arm, and she says nothing, only waits patiently for his reply.

"Zant," he finally says. "Ever since Zant... I just can't sleep well."

"Oh." He thinks there might be a smile in Midna's voice, and he lifts his head - just a fraction - to peer at her. "Just nightmares, huh? That's good."

 _That's good?!_ He tries not to sigh at her. Of course she'd respond this way. He knew it. Then why did he tell her anything at all?

"I know, they're terrible. I have them sometimes too." Her gaze drops. There might be pain in her single visible eye, but he can't tell, since she isn't looking at him. "But there are plenty of ways to get rid of them. Like... taking a bath, for one?" Then her eyes lift again, meet his, and she's grinning, prodding his arm with her finger. "You sure need one."

Despite... despite _everything,_ he still manages to offer her a smile in return. "Yeah... I could do with a bath." How many days had it been since he'd had one?

Or had it been weeks? He isn't even sure anymore.

The doorknob turns.

Midna's eye widens, and she leaps into his shadow without another word. Link turns his gaze toward the door as it creaks open, and Ilia steps across the threshold with a platter piled with food in her hands. A smile lights up her beautiful face. And even though her bright smiles always used to make him happy, now they just hurt.

"Here." She crosses the room and sets the platter down on the round wooden table before his bed. "I'm so sorry... I forgot to ask you what you like. How thoughtless of me."

She had known, once, of his love for pumpkin soup, and roasted cucco, and her fresh-baked bread, and really anything with Ordon goat cheese. But now she knows nothing of him. He tries not to let that fact sting; he figures he's been wallowing in his own misery long enough.

Cheeks tinged with a faint pink, she meets his eyes. "So I just got you a bit of everything. Oh! And some water." She lifts a clay mug filled with clear liquid and offers it to him. "Your lips look so cracked and dry. Have you been drinking enough water?"

Typical Ilia. She's always worrying for him, even when she doesn't know him anymore. The thought makes him smile.

He accepts the mug from her. "I try, but I always seem to forget to bring enough water with me on my travels." He takes a sip of the cool liquid, and lets it wet his dry throat.

"Travels?" She settles herself in a chair at the table, and smiles at him. "What are you traveling for? To see the world?"

To see the world.

He wishes it were true.

But he just smiles again. "Something like that." He takes another sip of water, and Ilia lowers her eyes, not saying anything else. The sun sinks ever lower in the horizon, casting pale twilight shadows across the room.

"I'm sorry for bothering you," the girl finally says. "I'll let you eat your dinner now." She stands, brushing off her pants, and gives him one last smile of farewell.

"Thank you, I -"

He barely stops himself from saying her name.

She hesitates at the door, hand curled round the knob, and casts a glance at him over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Just... thank you."

"Oh, of course." She nods once in reply, and then leaves, that wonderful, terrible smile of hers never quite leaving her lips.

As soon as she's gone he tries to forget her. He hungrily stuffs his face with meat, and vegetables, and something strange that he isn't sure what it is but he likes it anyway. For a moment it helps him forget the pain, and he settles back into his comfortable bed with a full, content belly.

But then night falls. Clouds cover the stars, and the lonely moon peeks from between them with scant light that can't chase away the darkness. Only indistinct black shapes surround him, and he waits, waits in dread for the inevitable Shadow Beasts - or their master - to lunge at him from the dark. And even though he's supposed to be relaxing, and all his normal tunics are gone for now, replaced by a comfortable breezy white one, and even though his sword no longer rests at his back - still his muscles stay taut. Still he keeps his sword right beside him on the bed.

And he can't fall asleep at all. Not even if he tries to.

"Midna," he finally murmurs after what must have been hours of sleeplessness, never tossing and turning, only lying there in the same spot with his eyes glued on the outside world.

To his surprise, she's not asleep. "Yes, Link?" she asks gently. And though his back is turned to her, he knows she leaped out from his shadow, because of the faint blue glow bathing his bed and chasing away blackness in its wake.

Finally he turns. Turns to look at her, floating there in the air beside him. The markings webbing her skin glow, and so does her only visible eye, piercing the night and illuminating her entire form, basking her in a halo of brilliant blue. In the black she _shines._ The sole light in this darkness.

And he thinks she's almost beautiful.

A smile curls his tired lips just looking at her. "So, what were some of those ways to get rid of nightmares?"

She settles on his bed, legs crossed beneath her, and grins. "Can't sleep?"

He shuts his eyes. "No... I can't."

Can't sleep for the image of Zant's terrible mask lingering in his mind. Can't sleep for the memory of Midna dying on his back, rain relentlessly pounding her frail form. Can't sleep for the knowledge of the Master Sword there with him, and what it means for his future and his destiny.

The images taunt him, laugh at him, threaten to _consume_ him -

His eyes flash open again. And peering at Midna's glowing form calms his racing heart once more.

"Hmm... Well," she mutters, glancing away in thought. "Other than a bath - think of things that make you happy. Even though the nightmares are awful, they're just that - nightmares. They aren't physical. They can't hurt you. So, don't let them."

He blinks at her. "I... I'll try."

She doesn't meet his gaze, only lowers hers, and stares at the bed beneath her, fingers curling in the sheets. She swallows. "And, um, sometimes light helps. Sometimes the dark can be terrifying because you don't know what lingers in it. So - so, if you want, I can stay here for a while..." She trails off, voice naught more than a whisper, and never meets his eyes.

Link only stares at her. He doesn't know what to say. The silence stretches on, but it isn't frightening anymore, just peaceful - if not a little bit awkward too.

And then he smiles. Grins, really, a big toothy grin, because he can't help it. When Midna shoots him a glare he tries to wipe it off his face. "Sure. I'd like that," he says to her in response.

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, whatever..." But despite her irritated tone she lies down anyway, turns her back to him, and stays there for a moment - then sits up again, grumbling a complaint about "this stupid mask", and proceeds to take it off and make it vanish into nothingness with a snap of her fingers.

He only watches, amused, and content.

Then she lies down again, settles into a comfortable position, and sighs. "Night, silly wolf."

His eyes drift shut. And he's actually tired - thank the Goddesses. Maybe he really _will_ get some sleep.

"Good night, Midna."

* * *

 **A/N: I'll be honest and say I had this one sitting on my computer for a while. I don't know why I didn't post it earlier. I read over it, cleaned up some parts, and here it is. Sorry it's kinda late.**

 **Fair warning - the next one just _might_ take a while to come out, because it's a terrible mess and needs severe editing.**


	13. Denial

_Tell him._

No.

 _Tell him._

She's sure he already knows. Why bother?

 _Tell him._

What if he doesn't? Will he hate her?

 _Tell him._

No!

Midna waits in his shadow, grinding her teeth together and squeezing her eyes shut. No, she doesn't want to tell him. Even though she knows she needs to.

But does she really? Despite calling him "idiot" all the time, she knows he isn't. He's smart enough to figure things out on his own. She's obviously from a different realm. She hasn't tried to disguise the fact that she loves Twilight and hates the world of light. She even nearly died when exposed to light. The memory makes her shudder.

Isn't that proof enough? That she's a Twili...

Link treads brown stone. Rock walls loom tall over him, casting everlasting shadows, only a sliver of azure sky peering between them. His booted footsteps echo against the pass, a lonely sound within a soundless world.

It took him long enough to find this pass through the rock walls of Lake Hylia. All they can do is hope that it leads to the desert.

Even though Midna hopes it won't.

Once he finds the desert, she had promised herself, she'd reveal everything. About being a Twili, and their _princess_ at that, and how Zant had usurped her throne, turned her into a helpless imp, and had driven her away from her own home. It's a lot to reveal. A lot for him to take in, she's sure. But it's better to say it soon rather than keep it bottled up inside her.

But he'll hate her for it. Hate her, to learn that she's the ruler of a dark realm that took everything away from him. Took away his friends, took away the memory of the girl he loved, took away his _humanity -_

He'll hate her. Utterly despise her. In his mind she'll be no better than the Shadow Beasts he's forced to slaughter right and left - and he might... he might...

No. No, he's too gentle for that. He won't hurt her.

Will he?

How can she doubt him, after everything he's done for her, even when all she's shown him is cruelty?

"I think... we made it to the desert, Midna," Link murmurs.

Her frantic heart skips a beat, and she peers up from her spot in his shadow, eyes sweeping the endless fields of golden sand before her. There is no wind. Not a living thing in sight. Only the vast horizon, and the faded silhouettes of lonely pillars in the distance.

Link wipes a sheen of sweat from his forehead and sighs. "Sweet Din, it's hot," he grumbles to himself. Midna's grateful she can't feel the heat in his shadow.

But she can't remain there.

Tightening his fingerless gloves, brushing stray strands of hair gold as the sand away from his eyes, and adjusting the belts strapped across his torso - he takes a single step forward into the desert.

"Wait, Link."

The words spill from her lips before she can even think to stop them.

And he obeys, peering down into his shadow as if he can see her there, brow furrowed. "What is it?"

She leaps up to float in the air before him - but even then she can't face him. She can't decide if she wants to let her hands hang loose at her sides or clasp before her. But she knows for a fact that she definitely can't meet his eyes. "I... I need to tell you something."

He just waits patiently.

"What the spirit Lanayru showed you... About those who practiced dark magic and tried to take the Sacred Realm. Do you remember it?"

Finally she looks up. Only for him to avert his gaze, lips pressed into a thin line. "How could I forget it?"

Really, how could he? She hadn't seen it - but the way he had described it to her with such horror in his eyes... She swallows. "Do you know what happened to those people?"

He pauses for a moment to think, gaze dulling just slightly as he ponders her words and searches his memory for what Lanayru had told him. "I... don't, actually. The spirit just told me that the Goddesses sent it and its kin to intervene. They sealed away the dark magic. That's about it."

All she wants is to sulk in his shadow, silent, and speak not a word. But it's too late now. She's already begun.

"They... they were chased across the land," she explains, eyes downcast. "Until they were cornered, and had nowhere else to go - and then the Goddesses banished them into an entirely different realm. The Twilight Realm."

Link stiffens. He only stands there, silent, gazing off into the distance.

"For a long while they hated the Goddesses, and the people of light, for driving them away. But then hundreds upon hundreds of years passed and they became gentle, bathed in that eternal Twilight as they were... But they could not return to Hyrule. Mere shadows, flitting in the half-light of dusk, they were forgotten."

"So then - Zant, and all his Shadow Beasts, and all the other denizens of Twilight - they're all descendants of the people who practiced dark magic long ago. The ones who started the war."

Midna nods in response. And then she pauses, for she can't find the words to tell him everything - what she is, _who_ she is, why she's here...

"And..." Link trails off, turns his head away so all she can see is the right side of his face, lips curled into a frown. "And you?"

"W-what?" Her eyes widen, and she claps her tiny hands against her chest so tightly that her knuckles turn white.

 _What does he mean? What does he know?!_

"What is that supposed to mean?" she murmurs, wanting only to drop her gaze again and never meet his eyes for as long as she lives, but she just - she _can't._ Even though she wants to, all she can do is freeze in place, can't move, can hardly breathe, can't even blink, can only wait, wait to see if he's really saying what she thinks he is.

She hopes he isn't.

"You're one of them... aren't you? A denizen of the Twilight."

Her heart stops.

This was what she had been intending to tell him. This was what she had been so afraid to tell him. Afraid he'd deny her very existence, leave her by the roadside to die because she's no less a monster than the demons he's been slaying since the start of his journey.

But he won't. He won't. Will he?

That distant, almost - _cold_ look in his eyes makes her doubt.

"You - how did you know?" she finally finds the voice to splutter.

Finally he looks at her. And the ice that had hardened his eyes for naught more than a second is melted now, and kindness is all that's left. He even tries to smile. "I know I'm an idiot, Midna, but even stupid people like me can notice things. Like, how you always hated the sun so much, and loved the Twilight, and how you couldn't exist in the world of light, and how you and Zant both had the same strange blue skin that I've never seen before. I guess I didn't make all of the connections until now, when you started talking about it, and then it all just... fell into place." He hesitates for a moment, smile falling, looking her up and down as if seeing her in a new light. Or in new darkness, she supposes. "So am I right?"

She blinks at him in utter surprise. "...Yes. You are."

She waits for him to look away again. For his eyes to turn cold again. For him to shout at her, call her a demon, tell her to get out of his sight.

But he doesn't. Dear, sweet Link, of course he doesn't. He just nods absentmindedly and peers at her in thought. "I always knew you never seemed... well, quite of this world."

Midna narrows her eyes at him. "Is that an insult?"

"The opposite!" He grins. Actually _grins_ in a situation like this, and for some reason it makes her blush.

Stupid wolf.

"You don't hate me?" It's a blunt question. And a pointless one too, because Link's the type who probably wouldn't give an honest response to it.

But - "Of course not." - his tone is so genuine, his eyes so kind and so _forgiving_ that she just can't help believing him right away.

She gulps. "Link - the Twilight never used to be like this. It was a peaceful, beautiful place... until Zant usurped the throne, and turned all of the innocent Twili into mindless Shadow Beasts who _can't_ do anything but follow his every demand." On the last part she snarls. She can't help it.

Link's eyes widen. "W-wait, I..."

Midna shakes her head. "He never had this kind of power before. I have no doubt he got his power from somewhere else, not the ancient magic of our tribe. How, though, I don't know..."

"No, Midna -"

She blinks at him. "What?"

"The Shadow Beasts I've been killing all along - they're... they're..." He stares at her, shadows flickering in his eyes. "I can't kill innocent people."

"Let me tell you something." This time she drops her eyes, nervously crosses her legs midair and grimaces. "They don't have a will of their own anymore. They're quite literally mindless monsters. I don't think there's any way to save them. Death... is the only way."

His lips part, as if to protest, and the shadows in his eyes deepen. But he says nothing.

"And, I... All that talk about you being my slave, and that I didn't need you, and that if you died I could do it all on my own?" She clenches her hands into fists and grits her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut. "Not only... Not only am I sorry for that, but it isn't true. I can't do it all on my own."

She expects him to say something. _Anything,_ really, but he doesn't. So she continues. "Remember how I mentioned the Mirror of Twilight, when you first claimed the Master Sword?"

He doesn't reply for a while. Then - in a shaky voice - "I do."

She looks up at him then. His lips press together and he gazes off into the distance, perhaps watching the waves of heat rippling against a stark blue horizon.

"Although the Goddesses forbade our people from ever entering the world of light again, they did leave one link between the realms. And they left it in the hands of your people. The Mirror of Twilight. If we can find it…" She trails off, allowing him to reach his own conclusion.

If they find it, they can find Zant, too. And they can save the last of her people; the ones who still retain their innocence and free will.

And so - "Will you come with me?"

A selfish request. He had already done so much for her. He had already followed her through light and twilight; had already saved her life, although he owes her absolutely nothing. If anything, _she's_ the one who owes him her entire life.

The thought almost sickens her. She hates owing people. But after how cruel and how selfish she had been this whole time, and after he had showed her nothing but kindness and patience, owing him is all she can do. And she wonders how to repay the debt, when she has nothing to her name but a weak, frail little imp's body.

Still he says nothing. Still he only stares into the distance. Once his eyes had been almost beautiful, she thinks, reflecting the pure blue sky of his world - but now… now they are dull. Now they are pools of growing darkness, shadows that course like a river, that threaten to _drown_ him -

"Link?" she asks, almost desperate.

Nothing.

He is light. He is the sun, and the sky, glowing and fierce in his love for the world. Seeing shadows rising within him isn't right. Even though she loves the dark - it's all she really knows, after all - it feels so wrong to see it enveloping him. It isn't right. Isn't right at all.

And - purely out of some strange impulse - she presses a tiny hand to his cheek, his skin a fire against hers, and forces him to meet her gaze. He stares at her, lips grim and jaw taut. "Link," she tries again, gentler this time, and thinks this is the only way she can repay him - by just _being_ there.

It probably isn't much of a payment. Especially since she's sure he hates her. Yes. Yes, he hates her, and the thought makes her tremble for a moment, fearing that he'll slap her hand away and snarl like the beast she had turned him into…

But he doesn't. He just stares at her, and some of the shadows leave his eyes. Then - then, he smiles, actually _smiles,_ and she has to resist gaping at him in reply.

"Of course I'll come."

She drops her hand from his cheek, purely from surprise rather than anything else, and can't even summon the strength to blink at him.

Silence. A harsh breeze starts, and stirs the sands, and blows hot air onto her cold skin. She swallows - and still can't say anything. So without another word she dives into his shadow where she belongs, where she can hide from his wonderful, terrible eyes, and where she can ignore the confusion swirling within her. Confusion at his kindness; she's an awful demon-imp, how can he possibly keep smiling? Confusion at his selflessness; when all he wants to do is rest, she's sure, and yet still… Still.

At this point she shouldn't be surprised at him anymore. But somehow she is. Darkness threatens to overtake him sometimes, and yet somehow he manages to push it away and retain that ugly light.

Once, it had been ugly. Now she isn't so sure.

She isn't so sure of anything anymore. Her whole life, denizens of light had been wicked, selfish beings who tore away her ancestors' lives. They bowed to Goddesses who shunned their own people and tossed them aside into a realm of darkness, never to be seen again. Light dwellers were evil.

 _Were._

So much has changed. Her perception of the world, of herself, of her people, of the light… so much has changed that it scares her.

She realizes she didn't tell him of her true identity - princess of that other world. But she can't bring herself to say it. Can't bring herself to say anything at all. Can't even bring herself to say something as simple as _thank you._

She only waits in his shadow as she always does, flitting in half-light, a half-being in a horrible half-world.

At least that much won't ever change.

* * *

 **A/N: I don't know why this took me so long... I wanted to do this scene justice while still changing it up enough to make it interesting. Not sure if I succeeded there. And it feels kind of, messy? I tried to edit it and get rid of that "messy" feeling, but it always ended up worse. So eventually I stuck with this. Hopefully it's okay.**

 **Thanks for being patient with me x3**


	14. Wind

The desert stretches long, endless golden fingers into the darkness. Cold wind bares its fangs and bites at her skin, blue skin that doesn't match this world at all. She shudders.

She should be in his shadow. It's safe there, where she can't be harmed - but she's sick of sulking about in darkness.

Yes. _Her,_ the very princess of a half-realm where no light shines, a being of shadow itself, and _everything_ about her rejects this other world - she's sick of darkness. How pathetic of her. The dark should be her passion. And it was, and it still _is,_ but it's possible to have more than one passion, isn't it?

 _I'm being ridiculous,_ she silently tells herself with a grimace on her pale lips.

When she stares into the moonless night, she thinks she might miss the sun - just a little. Its piercing rays chase nightmares away. That much she has learned already in her short time here.

 _He_ chases nightmares away, too. She looks at him, and the chill wind never stops tousling his hair. He's wrapped in a thick blanket or two, bundled so tightly that he's just a shapeless lump, now, and that stupid hat that he loves so much, for whatever inexplicable reason - lies bundled beneath his head, a makeshift pillow.

She had just started warming up to him. Enough to lie near him when he needed her to, enough to tell him almost all about who she is and what Zant did to her people.

But when she looks at him again all her confidence blows away on the bitter wind. It scatters, and she thinks it's dead, and she'll never see it again.

She can't possibly be cruel to him again. No. No, the thought almost makes her physically ill, after all he's done for her. But to _keep_ warming up to him - to allow him, the sun, to shine upon her endless night - it won't work. She can't let it happen. She'd inevitably vanish if she did, like the last stretches of evening beneath dawn's powerful gaze.

Her markings glow in the darkness. Cyan slices blackness and seeps through monotonous gold. Bright.

Not bright enough. Not like his smile, and his _eyes,_ Goddesses, his eyes...

She, much like he, suffers from terrible nightmares. Shadows she had once loved to dance amid, now - they stalk, unnatural footsteps, blackness against blackness, and they send shivers down her spine. She hates them. Hates them, for they remind her of Zant, and the beasts flanking him that had been innocent people, once.

Most of all she remembers nearly dying.

 _Funny,_ she thinks to herself with a scoff. Funny how the light had almost unraveled her very being and yet she still finds herself falling in love with it anyway.

It was also light that had saved her. After all, _he_ had saved her, and the noble Princess Zelda too, and they are both light itself. Darkness - Zant - had tried to destroy her.

She wants Link to wake, because his eyes glow like that terrible, _wonderful_ blue noonday sky of his, unmarred by black clouds or pink twilight. She wants him to guard her from these nightmares.

But she can't let him.

So - she dives into his shadow again, where she, as a creature of darkness, is _supposed_ to be, and she promises herself she'll stay there.

She's never been good at keeping promises.

* * *

 **A/N: Blah, sorry this took kinda long to come out. I went through a short phase where I didn't want to write at all, so I took a break, and now I'm back! Sorry this is so short. It isn't the best comeback ever, I know, but I wrote it at midnight within like ten minutes, so it isn't amazing xD I'll try to do better with the future themes.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing, and for being patient c:**


	15. Order

"What is this place?"

His voice echoes hollowly through the dark room. A black sword, taller than himself, sits embedded in the stone floor, ropes tying it to the ground, strange rectangular papers hanging from them. With his brow furrowed Link takes a cautious step toward the sword and runs his finger along one of the ropes, coarse and frayed beneath his skin.

Midna stays in his shadow. "It looks like some kind of… ancient prison cell, actually."

His blinks at his shadow. "It does?"

"Yeah. Those weird little papers look like talismans - you know, the type you use if you're trying to seal away an evil spirit or something." She leaps out of his shadow to investigate the yellowed papers.

"Evil spirit…?" Link shakes his head, hair swishing around his face in thick, greasy strands at the movement. He misses his bath at home. "I've never heard of using paper and ropes to try and seal away _spirits."_ He chuckles. "Sounds kind of useless. Wouldn't the spirit escape anyway? I mean - they're just ropes."

She huffs and rolls her eyes at him. "No. Duh, stupid. The seals are blessed or something in order to keep evil at bay."

Link sighs. His shoulders sag a little and he absently brushes his dirty hair away from his eyes. "Okay then?"

"What? You don't have these types of talismans?" the imp questions.

"No."

"Well, that'd explain why you don't know anything about them…"

"I doubt they even work." He lightly shrugs his shoulders. "Probably just some silly superstition."

"It's _not_ a silly superstition."

"No? Here, I'll prove it." He draws the Master Sword then, and it sings as he frees it from its sheath. It _is_ a silly superstition, he tells himself. Ropes can't hold back spirits. They're _spirits,_ after all.

"What are you doing?" Midna demands. A twinge of panic raises her voice a few notes higher.

Instead of replying, Link adjusts his grip on the sword's hilt - and slashes its sharp edge right through one of the old ropes.

 _"Goddesses!"_ Midna frantically flings herself into his shadow again. "What is _wrong_ with you, you brainless idiot!"

Link only smiles. "See? Nothing's happening," he replies with a casual shrug. He sheathes his sword at his back and casts a cursory glance over his shoulder. A frown flits across his lips. "The door isn't open, though," he mutters to himself. Upon entering the dark, round stone room, thick, unmovable bars had fallen over the door and refused to budge. He had hoped that cutting the rope would do _something_ to help him, but apparently not. "Maybe I just have to cut the rest…?"

The sword shifts.

Link's eyes flick to the giant weapon, lips parting in an "o" of surprise as the black blade begins to wriggle within its rope prison. Heart quite suddenly hammering, the Hylian stumbles a few steps backward, and watches as the blade frees itself from the ground and floats menacingly above him.

"Oh, for the love of Nayru," he murmurs to himself, eyes wide in shock.

Suddenly the blade lunges for him. With a shout of surprise he leaps out of the way, rolling end over end until he finally manages to stumble awkwardly to his feet. Casting a frenzied look over his shoulder only reveals the weapon lifting itself into the air again, ready to slice down toward him.

"Wow, good job, Mister Hero!" Midna chimes from his shadow. Though he can't see her, he just _knows_ she's folding her arms across her chest and glaring at him.

"I didn't know this would happen!" he cries, dodging another attack from the sword devoid of a wielder.

"I warned you about this, idiot," the imp hisses. "But do you ever listen to me?"

"I just -"

"No," she interrupts him. "The answer to that question is a loud, resounding _no._ You never listen to me! And _now_ look what's happening, you're getting attacked by a huge, possessed sword! Truly, you are Hyrule's finest!"

The blade takes a swipe at his head. With quite an undignified whimper he ducks, the weapon missing his skull by mere inches, and he can feel the wind of its passage on his skin. Without a moment's hesitation he stands up again and runs for his life. He can hear the sword mindlessly slicing the air behind him. His chest heaves with panic and sweat gathers on his palms and his forehead.

"Anyway, there's something you need to see -"

Before the imp can get any further, he hears the sword whistling behind him. His frantic heart skips a beat. Throat dry, he lunges out of the way and flops clumsily to the ground on his stomach. The weapon crashes into the stone floor right beside him. Dust plumes and ancient rock fragments fly into the air. Link hides his face behind his arms as the stone shrapnel assaults him.

"Link?" the imp calls from his shadow. "Link, are you okay?"

"Just fine!" He stumbles to his feet again, heart racing wildly, legs trembling, but he runs anyway, because - because, what else can he do? He doesn't even dare glance over his shoulder. He can _hear_ the sword dislodging from the floor. He _knows_ it's chasing him.

Midna waits in tense silence - or it might have been silent, if it weren't for the threatening swishing of the gigantic blade behind him, and his desperate panting.

Then she leaps up from his shadow. "Here!" She snaps her fingers, and there the Shadow Crystal appears, hovering above her palm. "Take it!"

"Wh - huh?"

 _"Take it!"_

He curls his fingers around the orange-marked black crystal - and within an instant, his bones snap and rearrange themselves, muscles shifting beneath his sprouting fur. He gives a little whine of pain as Midna settles on his back, fingers curling in his fur.

He turns, then - and his eyes widen. "What is _that?!"_ he cries, but it comes out as a frantic bark instead. He can see a beast holding the sword - tall, menacing, thick demon's horns spiraling from its head. It shrieks. He pulls his lips into a snarl in reply.

The black sword lifts again. This time Link is ready.

When the weapon cuts through the air toward him, he nimbly dodges to the side, and doesn't even watch as the blade crashes into the stone floor and embeds itself within it. Instead he lunges forward. The ghost-demon shrieks again, and desperately tries to free the blade from the ground, but it can't.

Link's paws slam against its robed chest. He sinks his fangs deep into its almost immaterial form.

The ghost screams in agony. It throws itself backward, angry claws reaching to fling the beast off its body. Link isn't fast enough to dodge. Its pale, translucent fingers curl around him, and they toss him away.

Midna gives a shout of surprise and hurriedly flies off his back, keeping herself suspended in midair as he rolls across the room for meters, whining all the while, until finally his back crashes into the wall. Link squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ignore the aching pain all over his body. "Link!" she calls to him.

Somehow he manages to stand and shake out his fur.

The little imp floats over to him as quickly as she can, and hurriedly runs a tiny hand through his dark fur. "You're okay?"

He gives a nod and a wolfish grin to reassure her.

The ghost-demon's screeches still pierce the air, shrill and terrible, and the wolf can only watch as its entire body dulls, opaque gray and black and blue consuming the once-translucent white. With a fierce roar the demon turns its now-material head to the beast.

For the first time Link captures a good look at his enemy. Not of his own accord, his ears flatten on his head as he looks at it.

Long black robes shroud its tall form. Cruel red eyes glow with hatred, and long horns spiral down to frame its pointed face. It bares long, ugly fangs at the wolf as it curls bony fingers around the hilt of the huge sword. Link's tail tucks between his legs as it stands at its massive height and prepares to crush its enemy beneath the black blade.

 _I can't fight this thing at close range,_ he thinks to himself, shrinking into the darkness as if doing so will hide him from the ugly monster. _I - I have to figure something else out -_

The sword crashes down toward him.

With a yelp Link springs out of the way, tail whipping like a flag behind him as he dashes around the room in mindless circles. _What do I do, oh Goddesses, what -_

Wait.

An idea springs to his mind and, with a simple thought, his bones crack and muscles stretch, and once again he stands on two legs as a Hylian. The Shadow Crystal falls to the floor in front of him. "Midna! Bow!"

She needs not another word of urging. She snaps her fingers and the Shadow Crystal vanishes in a flurry of black specks, and his bow and quiver of arrows replaces it with the sound of wood clattering to the floor. Immediately afterward she leaps into his shadow again. While the demon still struggles to free its sword from the ground, Link grasps his quiver and slings it over his shoulder, taking the bow in his right hand and nocking an arrow to the string with his left.

An infuriated screech echoes through the round stone room. A hurried glance reveals the sword, now free from the floor, and its wielder lifting the massive weapon in preparation to attack.

Link fumbles with the arrow, sweaty fingers shaking uncontrollably. The projectile slips. It drops from his grip to land uselessly on the ground.

"Oh, Goddesses, for - for the love of _Nayru -"_

The air sings in the black blade's wake. With wide, horrified eyes the Hylian throws himself out of its path, and hears the ground erupt beneath its weight as he falls to the floor and clumsily slides for a foot or so before finally slowing to a stop.

"Din, Din, Din," he curses over and over again as he scrambles to his feet, trembling fingers reaching for another arrow. This time he succeeds in nocking it to his bow. A sigh of relief escapes his lips.

The demon draws its weapon from the ground and turns to face its enemy with a snarl.

Link draws the bowstring back. His left arm shakes but he ignores it, shutting one eye and lifting the arrow toward the monster's head. If he can shoot it right between the eyes -

Aim. _Release._

The arrow eagerly jumps away from its prison, and the bowstring _twangs_ as the projectile whistles through the air - and slams right into the demon's neck, the arrowhead burying itself deep within the enemy's flesh.

With another relieved sigh he allows the bow to drop to his side, and only watches as the monster gives a garbled scream, bony fingers releasing the hilt of its weapon. The gigantic black sword falls to the floor with a massive crash that echoes against the round walls. The demon reaches with desperate fingers, scrabbling in vain at the arrow's wooden shaft, lumpy black blood pooling in its mouth and trickling down the sides of its face.

But it doesn't fall. It stays upright - screaming in pain, hands shaking - but upright nonetheless.

 _Why isn't it dying?_

As time passes and still - _still_ it doesn't fall -

\- he realizes something.

Link steels himself. He draws the Master Sword from its sheath, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

With lips pressed into a determined line the Hylian advances. His fingers clutch the hilt of his sword in a white-knuckle grip. The monster doesn't seem to notice him. It only kneels there on the ground, ugly eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling at it snaps the projectile's shaft in half and tosses it angrily to the ground. The action does nothing to remove the arrowhead itself from its throat.

Link slams his foot onto the monster's abdomen, surprised when it actually falls over. It had seemed so much stronger than that despite its thin frame, the way it had carried the huge sword around with such ease…

He steps beside the monster's head.

It looks at him. Angry eyes pierce his soul like fire. Link grinds his teeth together and grasps his sword's hilt in both hands - then plunges it straight down into the demon's head.

It wails in agony. In one final attempt to exact revenge for its death, it flings its thin, long-fingered hand toward him. Sharp claws catch his chest - and for a moment time slows as they rake long tears in his tunics - then his eyes widen in shock as he flies across the room from the force of the blow, crashing hard into a wall and sinking, groaning, to the floor.

The monster bursts apart. Its fragments dissolve into a million tiny insects, and they scurry about in panic for a moment before all of them fly up through a hole set high into the ceiling.

The bars over the door fly up to vanish into the ceiling, granting an escape from the awful room. He doesn't notice.

"Goddesses! Link -" But the imp can say nothing more. Instead she only jumps up before him, hovering in the air with worry in her single visible eye. "Farore," she hisses under her breath. "You… You should really do something about _that."_

He can't reply. He can't move. He can't even _breathe._ For a while he can only lie there, staring blankly at the ceiling, the wind knocked out of him - before finally, breath surges into his lungs all at once. The air suddenly assaulting him makes him wince as he feels the bruises already beginning to form all over his body.

He heaves a shuddering sigh as he sits up - and sees red liquid trickling down his stomach like a series of small waterfalls, eventually dripping off his leg to pool on the cold floor below.

It takes him a moment to realize what's happening.

"Oh, for Din's sake," he growls.

"What - what do I _do?!"_ Midna panics, small hands flying to clamp over her mouth. She studies the four long, thin claw marks that had torn their way through his tunic and even his mail shirt.

"Nothing, it's fine," he mumbles, peeling his shirts off and setting them aside. Along the course of this awful journey he's dealt with plenty of wounds, so he feels at least somewhat confident in what he's doing. He reaches into his pouch and produces a coarse rag and a bottle of water. "See?" He smiles faintly as he uncorks the bottle and dumps half its contents onto the rag. "Aren't you glad I packed some sacred spring water?"

The imp stares at him, not a single whit of humor in her face. "Let me help you with that," she huffs, forcefully grabbing the scratchy cloth from his hands.

He only shrugs and lets her. She settles her small form into his lap and grasps his arm for support, then leans forward, rag clutched in her right hand.

Oddly enough, the wounds haven't given him even the slightest prick of pain yet. Silently he thanks the Goddesses for it and -

"Ow!" he cries as Midna begins to wash the blood off his skin.

She ignores him. He bites down hard on his lip to avoid blurting out anything else embarrassing, and mentally curses the sudden agony searing his abdomen. He also takes note of a pain in his side whenever he breathes too deeply.

 _So I can probably add broken ribs to the list of injuries,_ he thinks as he sighs through his nose.

When Midna finishes cleaning the gashes, Link reaches into his satchel again and produces a roll of bandages. He soaks them in spring water before he lifts them, dripping, and starts to wrap them around his torso.

"Here, I can do that," the imp murmurs, carelessly tossing the now blood-soaked cloth aside and reaching for the bandages. He allows her to aid him in wrapping them around his wounds.

When she's finished she leans back against his knees and frowns. Not a word leaves her lips. He studies the little imp - the tenseness in her shoulders, the way her hands clench into fists and how she refuses to meet his eyes. "Let's go visit Renado," she tells him, breaking the silence that had been building up.

Link leans his head back against the wall. "No… We've made it this far. We can't just leave. I'm sure I'm almost finished with this place, anyway." He smiles at her.

She doesn't smile back. Instead she chews her lip and averts her eyes. "Whatever. Just - _go,_ before you bleed to death, got it?"

"Really, Midna. I'm okay." His smile widens a bit. Shadows of worry scurry about within her features, and he only wishes to see them gone. But they don't leave. "We're almost finished," he repeats, "and besides - you patched me up well enough to last for a while."

 _This_ time - her lips twitch upward. It's barely noticeable and it vanishes almost as soon as it appears, but it's a smile anyway. "Yeah, sure… you stubborn idiot." She shakes her head. "Fine. But if you bleed to death, don't say I didn't warn you, got it?"

He grins. "Got it."

"All teasing aside, you _better_ not bleed to death on me." Midna's gaze pierces him.

"I know. I won't."

She stares at him a moment longer, as if trying to find a lie in his words - and when she doesn't she dives into his shadow again without saying anything else.

With a sigh he grasps his tunics - even the stupid, useless mail armor one - and dons them all, before he sets off into the bowels of the dungeon once more.

* * *

 **A/N: I'm SO sorry for this one xD; It doesn't even fit the theme at all... ugh. The reason for that is because when I started writing this, it was just a bunch of silly Link and Midna banter (I was attempting to be lighthearted after all the angsting they've been doing). Their banter actually fit the theme. But I didn't like it, because I felt it didn't fit the amazing dungeon that is the Arbiter's Grounds. I thought a battle with Death Sword would be way cooler. Unfortunately I couldn't figure out how to fit it to the theme, but since I'm kinda happy with how the fight turned out, I ended up not caring in the end xP Heh. Sorry guys.**


	16. Thanks

Like ghosts in the night they vanish. The white outlines of their ethereal forms still hang in the sky for a moment, memories of what had once been, but before long they dissipate into blackness.

He can only stare. In the sages' wake he grimaces _,_ because - because it's not over. Not even _close_ to being over. And here he had hoped, when Midna spoke of the Mirror of Twilight, his journey might have been close to an end.

Apparently not. Zant just _had_ to break the Mirror and scatter the shards across Hyrule.

 _Why me?_ He sighs, rubbing his forehead in distress. _I'm nobody. I'm a simple farm-boy, not a hero…_

Still - he's made it this far. That has to mean something, doesn't it?

"Link..."

He remembers the imp hovering beside him, and casts her a sidelong glance. Tired... he's tired, so much so that he doesn't even _try_ to smile. But he looks at her anyway and sighs, "Hmm?"

"I..." She looks away. Clasping her hands behind her back she stares down at the ground beneath her, and presses her lips together. "You don't have to come with me, you know. You've done so much already..."

"I can't _stop,_ Midna," he tells her with a frown on his mouth and etched deep into his eyes. "I'm supposed to be the hero chosen of the Goddesses, or something ridiculous like that. Hyrule is depending on me. Everyone I care about is depending on me too. I can't just give up and let them all die. You said it yourself, didn't you?" He shuts his eyes and grits his teeth. "You need me."

He hates how the last part sounds almost arrogant to his ears. He doesn't want the whole world to need him. He wants to live life as a simple farm-boy in Ordon, herding stubborn goats back into the barn, joining the harvest and the following festival when it comes around, having a lively, sweet child of his own with Ilia after she regains her memories and they marry -

...Why does it feel so wrong to think such a thing?

He opens his eyes then, and watches Midna direct her gaze to the heavens. Stars spread their vast wings across the sky, glimmering like a million diamonds against pure inky black, and they reflect in her only visible eye, silver clashing against crimson. Not for the first time he notices just how much she glows in the darkness. A halo of cyan bathes her small form. She's entirely ethereal, unlike any being he's ever seen before - and -

\- she's _beautiful,_ he realizes. Ironic, considering he had thought of her as a disgustingly ugly demon the first time they'd met. He had hated her red eyes. They reminded him of blood and hatred and cruel, shadowy, single-fanged grins.

He hadn't realized just how long of a silence had stretched between them until she shatters the stillness, and he can only stare at her as she speaks - "I need you. Yeah. You're right about that, and it's _pathetic,_ because I need to be able to do something too... Unfortunately for me I'm helpless. I just can't do anything on my own. If - if that awful scum of a man Zant wouldn't have ruined the Twilight, then -"

"Midna." This time he tries to smile. She never meets his eyes, only looks deep into the night sky and grimaces. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry, I... got frustrated for a second. But I'll help you, with whatever you need - just, say the word."

Finally she looks at him. Her eyes pierce the darkness, and her smile - for whatever stupid reason - makes his heart skip a beat. "You're too nice," she huffs, shaking her head. "Do you even have a mean bone in your entire body?"

He just shrugs. His smile widens a bit.

"So... you'll help me?" she verifies, searching his face.

"Of course."

She places a tiny, delicate hand upon his arm, and he shivers - not from the cold night air, he thinks as he nervously averts his gaze.

And - "Thank you," the imp murmurs.

It's the first time she's ever thanked him for anything. It sounds strangely like an apology, too, and he frowns a little. He wants to tell her it's okay. That she'll be okay, that he'll be okay, that _everything_ will be okay. Her hand lingers on his arm. For a being of darkness, her skin is warm through his tunic, and - it would be so easy to capture that little hand in his own -

So he turns his eyes to hers again. His hand lifts, just a little, ready to take hers, but it's too late. She vanishes into his shadow without another word, leaving him cold and alone, his empty hand hovering uselessly in the air.

 _She's right there, in my shadow,_ he tries to tell himself. _I'm not alone._

But his throat goes dry anyway, and his heart sinks a little.

 _Din, what's wrong with me tonight?_

Running a shaky hand through his dirty sand-caked hair, he breathes a heavy sigh that tells of the weight of the world before he turns his back on the broken Mirror and sets off to find its shards.


	17. Look

All day they've been exchanging glances. And all day he's been sitting uselessly in Renado's sanctuary.

Link had been diagnosed with broken ribs, too many bruises to count, and the most obvious - four long gashes across his stomach. Fortunately for him, his mail armor had been more useful than he'd thought, since it had prevented any serious damage. The gashes were shallow and would heal quickly - so Renado had said.

So Link sits aimlessly on a bed and does nothing but stare out a nearby window at the sun-baked world beyond. He can't decide if he's thankful for the chance to rest or if it just makes him more anxious.

Maybe a little of both.

He leans against the windowsill. His chin sits propped up in his palm. Outside, Colin stands alone at the edge of the dirt street winding through Kakariko, brandishing a long, dead stick and pretending it's a sword.

And, like a sword, the young boy keeps grimacing at it and holding it away from him at arm's length, wary eyes trailing along its shape.

Link smiles a little at the sight. It's miraculous enough that the young boy is even _pretending_ to wield a sword, even if he still seems hesitant about it.

With a long sigh - one that hurts his ribs, and his wounds, and his bruises - he leans back into the bed he's now quite familiar with, and sees Midna sitting there near his feet.

Their gazes meet for perhaps the hundredth time that day. And - also for the hundredth time that day - Link averts his eyes and swallows, because he has absolutely no idea what to say to her, or why that single visible eye of hers suddenly makes him so utterly, completely _nervous._ Her sunset gaze has never made him feel this way before.

"Hey…"

Link forces himself to look at the little imp. She blinks at him. He swallows. "W-what?" he mutters, and mentally kicks himself for stuttering over nothing at all.

 _Goddesses, why am I being so - so, stupid lately?_

He blames it on exhaustion.

"Just… wanted to know if you're all right," she finally sighs after a pause.

"Yeah. I'm fine." He tries to smile at her - even when he winces as he rolls onto his side and stares blankly at the table nearby him, piled with bandages and little wooden bowls for mixing salve and bottles filled with sacred spring water.

From the corner of his eyes he sees Midna grimace. "Fine? Yes - I can see just how _fine_ you are. Don't you think you should take another bath in the spring? It might help you heal faster, or something…"

"I just _barely_ got finished with a bath in the spring," he reminds her. He glances down to the airy, slightly translucent white shirt Luda had given him before taking his torn, blood-soaked tunics away to fix them. "I don't need another one."

Midna rolls her eyes.

"What? You're actually worried about me?" He grins at her.

"Obviously!" She folds her arms across her chest and shakes her head. "Honestly… when will you get it through your thick skull? Of _course_ I worry about you. You're always getting yourself injured, and just - _just -"_ She grits her teeth and turns away. "Do you understand how miserable it is not to be able to do anything to help you?"

His grin falls, and a frown replaces it. "Well… I guess I don't. I'm sorry." He tries to sit up, even when his wounds burn and his sides throb with pain.

"What are you doing?" the imp huffs, hurriedly floating in front of him and pressing both her little hands against his chest, trying in vain to push him down. "You're supposed to be _resting!_ How can you heal if you don't? Goddesses - sometimes I think you'd be dead without me. You can be really stupid at times, you know that?"

"I just -"

A knock sounds on the door.

With a rather undignified yip of surprise, Midna throws herself into his shadow. For a moment Link can only stare at the spot of air where she'd been just a second or two ago - then he lifts his gaze. "Come in," he calls weakly.

The door creaks open, and Ilia stands there behind it. Bright noonday sun pours down from the heavens and silhouettes her form. Her hand is pressed against the doorframe, and she doesn't move for a while.

Then she steps across the threshold. Her brow furrows and her forest-green eyes scan the room. "Um - sorry if I'm intruding," she stammers. "But I thought I heard you talking to someone?"

Link tries to force a smile. "I'm - uh… You did?" He nervously clears his throat.

"Oh, it's probably nothing." She shakes her head and takes another step toward him, a smile brightening her pretty face. He looks at her as she advances and waits for his heart to hurt, for his soul to shatter, for his stomach to clench -

It doesn't happen. Instead he smiles right back as she takes a seat at the table across from his bed and places her hands in her lap. "I heard you were here," she begins hesitantly, staring down at her feet. "And whenever you come here, you're always injured, so… I wanted to check in and make sure you're all right, and I was going to ask if you needed anything. But if I'm being a bother, I can just leave -"

"No," he interrupts her. "You're fine."

Her lips tilt upward for a moment. "Thanks. You know, Link, you're very kind. Especially to talk to someone like me all the time, who doesn't even remember her own name…" She gives a bitter laugh at that; humorless and even a little angry. _This_ time his stomach twists a bit. "Sorry. I… It's frustrating," she manages to say.

"I know it is. And I'm sorry I don't know how to help you, but -" He clenches his jaw - "but, you'll get your memories back someday."

"Yes… I'm sure I will," she murmurs. She clasps her hands so tightly that her knuckles turn white.

He looks at her - at the pain in her eyes and the frustration set into the corners of her mouth. He wants her to remember. He wants her to know who she is. He wants her to be happy. Because, he loves her, after all.

But for some reason it just doesn't feel the same. When he thinks about how deeply he loves her, he also thinks about how deeply he loves Colin, and Uli, and Rusl… And he realizes that she feels something like a sister to him.

He remembers a certain desire of his, one he's had since the start of his exhausting journey - the desire to marry Ilia. And yet when he thinks of it now it just doesn't feel quite right. But why not? This _isn't_ how he's supposed to feel, why is absolutely everything in his life so _infuriatingly_ different now?

"Oh… I'm sorry for barging in and then ranting like this," the girl sighs. "I know you need rest. Really, you _are_ too kind," and she smiles at him again. It hurts a little - but not like it should. He watches, utterly confused at his own emotions, as she stands and makes her way to the door. "You don't need anything? No food, water… anything at all?"

He lightly shakes his head. "Thanks. I'm okay."

With a single nod Ilia vanishes and shuts the door behind her.

Not a second later Midna pops up before him, arms planted firmly on her wide hips. "Din, she scared me to death."

Link watches her for a while, watches as she sinks down to the the bed beside him, watches as she folds her short legs beneath herself, watches as she directs her gaze to his, fire clashing against sky. He discovers he can't look away. He imagines her without her mask, the way her bright hair had spilled in waves down her back, glowing strands of sunset…

The frown on her blue lips breaks him from his thoughts. "What?" he asks a little nervously, finding the room unusually hot. Yes - Kakariko is a hot village. But the sanctuary is always relatively cool. The sudden warmth makes him uncomfortable.

"Just thinking about how many times you would've died without me telling you what to do all the time." She cocks a brow.

Link grins. She smiles in reply, and seeing that expression on her face makes him inexplicably happy.

He realizes that a lot of things have changed - and they'll _keep_ changing. And he isn't sure if he's ready for that.


	18. Diamond

He misses Kakariko. Funny, considering he had gotten utterly sick and tired of its constant heat so easily. Now he _wants_ that heat.

With furry ears flattened on his head, he pushes on through the blizzard, long muzzle slicing like a knife through the whiteness, squinting against the wild wind howling in his ears. Even beneath his thick fur coat he shudders.

 _I hate Snowpeak,_ he decides with a wolfish huff.

He and Midna had decided it was for the best to head up the mountain in his wolf form for two reasons - one, because he can't see a single thing through the blizzard, and his sense of smell helps him far more than his Hylian eyes ever could. Second - because sweet Nayru, it's _freezing._ His wolf's coat is warmer than any human invention. And because his impish companion doesn't have one of the aforementioned coats, she stays huddled in his shadow, unable to feel the cold. He envies her.

The mountain climbs, and so does he. Endless white blankets his vision. He can't see anything else. Every time he steps forward, he sinks chest-deep into the blanket of cold. Snowflakes sting his eyes. Eventually he just decides to close them and rely on his sense of smell alone. His nose twitches as he pushes ever onward. Wet snow clings uncomfortably to his legs.

But -

Wait. He stops mid-step, one paw hanging in the air, ready to press deep into the bright flakes surrounding him. Eyes still shut tight, he lifts his black nose to the air and sniffs.

 _There,_ his instincts tell him.

His head swivels to the right. Ears perk high on his head and his azure eyes flash open.

 _What is it?_ he wonders to himself, nose testing the air once more. Something living. Another creature. Against his will his hackles raise and his lips curl into a snarl. But where? He can't see anything, even though - he can _smell_ it, and despite the raging blizzard he can _hear_ it creeping closer, closer, snow crunching beneath its feet -

 _There!_ his instincts scream.

Without another thought he leaps out of the way as _something_ lunges past him. A crystal blur. White as snow, blue as winter sky, shimmering for an instant - then - gone. A snarl bubbling within his throat, he keeps his long fangs exposed, and turns in the direction the beast had vanished.

And then another leaps past him with a vicious bark.

 _Wolves,_ he realizes. Wolves, just like him. But they don't smell quite right. Why not?

In his single second of distraction, one of them smashes right into his side, and he howls in surprise as they tumble, a blurred mass of fur, down the snowy mountainside and leave a furrowed trail behind them. He thinks, through the tumult of endless snarls and wailing blizzard winds, Midna might have cried to him from his shadow. But he can't pay attention to her. He must focus on his enemy.

He thrashes beneath the weight of the beast. It stumbles, and he takes this to his advantage, rolling to his paws and pinning the other wolf beneath him. A fierce growl rips free from the cage of his chest, deep and terrible, saliva dripping from his fangs. The creature whimpers beneath him.

But he shows no pity. Without a second of hesitation he lunges for the wolf's throat, teeth sinking deep into its flesh. Disgust rises within him as he tastes its coppery blood on his tongue, and he reels back, coughing and spitting the light blue liquid from his mouth.

Wait - _blue?_

With confusion in his eyes he turns toward the beast's corpse. Only now, after a pause in the sudden chaos, does he have time to study it. Its fur seems to be made of diamond, blood-red eyes open dully in death. Blue blood seeps from its throat and vanishes into the endless snow beneath.

A wolfos, Link realizes. He's heard of them before. Not the same as him. Ice-dwelling creatures, thicker and bigger than regular wolves, with crueler fangs and stronger jaws. With wolfish brow furrowed he turns his head toward his throbbing side - the one his enemy had crashed into - and finds it unhurt. He swallows and realizes just how lucky he is that its fangs hadn't sunk deep into his chest.

And then another one leaps from the blizzard before him. With a yip of surprise Link tumbles out of the way as the wolfos soars over his head. Immediately he whirls to face the new enemy, only to see two more standing at its side.

 _Where did they come from?_ he wonders as he watches them cautiously. None of them move.

Then he hears a chorus of grating snarls behind him. Heart dropping into his stomach with dread, he turns - and finds five, their hackles raised and teeth bared in preparation to attack.

 _Sweet Din, I'm outnumbered,_ he realizes with a gulp.

Then they all lunge at once.

Heart leaping in panic, Link stumbles out of the way, tripping over his own wet paws as he goes. One wolfos slams into his side. Another crashes atop his back, forcing him to his belly with a whimper. And yet another buries its dagger-like fangs into his other side. He howls in pain and thrashes - but to no avail. Even with his limbs flailing wildly, desperately rocking his body back and forth in an attempt to gain some sort of purchase - _any_ purchase - still his enemies bury him beneath their weight. And from the corner of his frantic eyes he can see one closing in on him, crystal fangs bared, terrible jaws gaping, revealing black, fathomless depths within. And the beast rushes for his throat.

Link squeezes his eyes shut. This is it. This is his last breath. It tastes like ice on his tongue, but he tries to savor it anyway.

Suddenly - a high-pitched scream, and then… the weight upon his back simply vanishes. No teeth sink into his neck. No warm blood flows from his flesh. He still lives, and breathes, and - oh, thank Farore, but, how?

Weakly, he forces himself to his paws again, his whole body throbbing and sore, a fresh wound burning on his side. He turns his gaze - and finds an imp floating there within the depths of the cruel blizzard, shouting in anger as her gigantic hand-hair bats wolfos away as easily as if they were flies.

 _Midna,_ he thinks with eyes wide in surprise.

But there are too many of them. They cluster beneath her like a terrible seething mass of living snow, and though she's hovering just a bit too high for them to reach, they wait. Inevitably she reaches out her hair to attack them once more. And two of them spring into the air at once, latching their horrible teeth onto her hand-hair.

She screeches. Link yips in surprise - _That hurt her?_ \- and then in a single second, anger overwhelms him. He forgets the ache throbbing beneath his skin. He forgets the bleeding injury on his side. And he runs toward her, smashing into the pack of monsters and forcing a path between them, snapping his vengeful jaws at the wolfos nearby him, razor teeth tearing flesh from anything unlucky enough to come close.

Midna thrashes, still crying out in pain, a terrible melody clashing with the wailing of the blizzard and the howls of the beasts, a chaotic song that rattles the very air. Three monsters soar away and vanish into the whiteness from the imp's ceaseless flailing. Two of them fall beneath Link's rage. The remaining three give up, and flee for their lives.

He stops then, panting, chest heaving, eyes wild. He watches as the fire of Midna's hair retreats. And -

\- she falls -

His heart skips a beat in horror as she plummets to the snowy ground below with no sign of stopping. Desperately he leaps forward in an attempt to _somehow_ catch her before he loses her beneath the freezing blanket, but - he's not fast enough.

Powdery snow plumes around her form as she lands, and it buries her. With a yelp of sheer panic he hurries toward her and digs, digs for her life, because - what if he loses her? What if he isn't fast enough? Farore help him…

But he finds her beneath the snow soon enough. For a moment relief floods him - but it can't last long. She needs warmth. He barks, a high, frantic noise, but in response her single visible eyelid only flutters and her lips part with whispered words lost to the angry storm. _Get in my shadow!_ he wants to shout. _Hurry!_ But when he barks again, her eyes only drift shut.

Golden Goddesses above, no, no, _no…_

With a single thought he morphs into a Hylian once more. The Shadow Crystal falls to his feet in the snow. Immediately the icy winds crash into him with all the force of a horse herd trampling his body - _It's so much worse as a Hylian!_ \- and he shudders uncontrollably beneath their weight. Gritting his teeth he reaches for the imp and takes her into his arms.

Oh… she's so light. So unbearably weak, small as a frail child against his chest. "Midna?" he calls against the howling storm. "Can you hear me?"

Her only response is a weak cough.

Link carefully shoves the Shadow Crystal in his pouch, careful not to let his skin touch it. He stumbles to his feet, sinking more than knee-deep in the snow, grinding his teeth together as he squints against the wind. He swears he remembers seeing a little cave further down the mountainside. Nayru, if he's wrong… No. He doesn't even want to think about it.

He presses on, down through the blizzard, snow crunching beneath his boots, and much to his relief, he finds that little cave. It's horribly small. But it should do. He offers a quick prayer of thanks to the Goddesses for allowing him to find it so quickly as he slips inside. He hurries toward the back of the little cave, away from the screaming wind and slicing snow. There he kneels and gingerly pulls off Midna's stone mask - it's cold as ice! - and removes his tunics. He wraps the white one and the green one around Midna's tiny, shuddering form, and he tosses the useless, much-too-cold mail armor one aside. He's left completely shirtless in a cold stone cave. A stupid idea, perhaps, if he didn't have his wolf form. Teeth chattering in the freezing air, he reaches into his pouch and almost desperately touches the crystal.

Immediately he falls to all fours, body shifting into a wolf's, his thick fur coat more than enough to protect him from the chill. He huddles around Midna's form, his tunics bundled tight around her, and - he just stares.

Is she all right?

For a long while he stays awake, watching her carefully, listening to the blizzard outside. And then he breathes a wolfish sigh of relief. She's safe. As safe as she can be for now, anyway, and all he can do is keep her warm. Unconsciously he curls a little tighter around her, and slowly drifts to sleep.

* * *

"Link…?"

The simple, quiet voice cleaves through his veil of sleep like a sword. With a quiet huff he cracks open one eye, then the other, and stares at the little imp before him.

…Huh? Why is she there? Why is he a wolf? Where are they - oh.

Abruptly it all comes rushing back to him, and he perks his ears, head lifting off the cold stone floor of the small cave. He stares at her in a silent way of asking, _What?_

Midna blinks at him in concern. "You're wounded."

 _I am?_ Blinking, he looks down at his side, and notices dried blood caked within his fur. The sight makes him grimace - as much as a wolf can grimace, anyway. He'd completely forgotten about the wolfos bite in his hurry to find somewhere warm for Midna to stay. He half-heartedly licks at the wound once, twice, and then gives up. It burns a little, and throbs, but it doesn't bother him all that much. Still - it seems to concern his companion.

She looks into his blue eyes and frowns. "You need to take better care of yourself."

"But you would have died if I didn't hurry," he tries to say. It only comes out as a whimper.

Miraculously - Midna seems to understand, somehow. She reaches a tiny hand toward the wolf, and entwines her fingers in the warm fur of his neck. A tiny smile graces her lips. "But thank you… for everything you do," she murmurs.

He carefully nuzzles her cheek in response.

"Hey!" she laughs. "Your nose is cold! And wet!" She wipes her cheek, then hurriedly grasps an edge of his tunic and brings it up to cover her nose and mouth. "Tend to your wound already, before you get my blankets any bloodier!"

He grins. To anyone else - it must look utterly terrifying. Sharp fangs bared, gleaming, like a cruel snarl.

But Midna understands. And she giggles in reply. "Seriously though… hurry up."

He sighs.

* * *

 **A/N: Well... that took me way too long. I don't have any good excuses. Sorry.**

 **Anyway! I've totally tossed the themes out the window, heh. I might use some of them, but it'll be at my leisure and it won't be in order. I might do more than thirty chapters; I might not. I have no idea. We'll just have to see how this goes. And thank you guys so much for your patience!**


	19. Winter

"Oh, Goddesses," the imp grumbles from his shadow. "The key. _Finally."_

"I know," Link sighs gratefully. "After that pumpkin and some random _cheese_ , of all things, I was expecting pepper next."

"Why in the world does Yeta even feel a need to store the key in some far corner of her house, anyway? Why not just keep it on her?"

"I have absolutely no idea."

"Whatever. At least we got it," Midna huffs. "Now hurry up and give that girl her stupid key!"

"Yeah, I'm going." Rubbing his hands along his arms and exhaling a puff of cold white air, Link hurries through the ruined halls of the old mansion, snow drifting in through broken rooftops to land on his head. At least the place isn't _as_ cold as outside - but he still curses himself for being idiotic enough not to bring a coat. Midna had snapped her fingers and given him a blanket from her strange, invisible pocket dimension at some point, but it'd simply been torn to shreds upon an encounter with a few tall ice creatures who threw javelins at him. He misses that blanket.

Even though the mansion's corridors twist and turn and lead into all sorts of strange rooms that make absolutely no sense to him, through some miracle, he still somehow manages to find his way back to the main sitting room of the house. It's right there below him, through a set of doors. The staircase has long since decayed, so his only way to reach it is to fall from the broken floor.

Heaving a tired sigh he sits and hangs his legs off the edge of the worn floorboards. It isn't _too_ far of a drop. He should be fine, shouldn't he? Swallowing, he slides himself off the ledge, fingers grasping the wooden planks -

 _Oh, Din, owowow -_

Sharp wooden edges dig into his fingers. The skin at his side stretches, and _stretches,_ and the wolfos bite he'd suffered a little while ago splits apart and fervently renews its bleeding. Gritting his teeth, he just decides to let go, and allows himself to drop to the cold stone floor below.

It's a bit farther than he expected. He tries to absorb the shock of the fall by rolling on the balls of his feet, but he utterly fails, and ends up clumsily falling on his rear with a grunt of discomfort.

"Link?" Midna gasps. "You okay?"

"Just… fine," he hisses through clenched teeth, trying with cold, stiff muscles to push himself to his feet. He trips and nearly falls again. Ungracefully steadying himself on a nearby wall, he heaves an exasperated sigh and brushes his dirty bangs away from his eyes. Nayru. Would it be too much to ask for a warm bath?

"…You sure about that?" Though he can't see her, he imagines Midna folding her arms across her chest and giving him that stubborn look he knows so well. He can't help a tiny smile at the mental image.

"Yes. I'm quite sure, thank you." He straightens himself then, brushing out any wrinkles in his tunic, involuntarily wincing at the freshly-bleeding injury in his side. With a pained grunt he turns and walks toward the small double-doors that lead into the sitting room. Upon entering, comfortable warmth embraces him, and he breathes a sigh of contentment, closing his eyes for just a moment to bask in the heat.

"Oh… you find key, uh?" a quiet, feminine voice asks from across the room.

Link shuts the door behind him and opens his eyes. "Yes. I did, this time," he replies with a faint smile.

The strange creature sitting in a chair - bundled so tightly inside of quilted clothing that he doesn't even know if she has arms or not - offers him a little smile in return. "Good. I'm sorry for trouble."

"It's fine." He crosses the room, boots quiet against old, faded red carpet. Fire crackles merrily in the hearth. "So, where's your room?"

"I take you there." The creature begins to stand.

Link shakes his head. "No, Yeta, that's fine…"

"Husband make me soup. I feel much better now, uh." She sways lightly, side to side, staring blankly at the Hylian before her. "I take you there," she repeats.

"Um… all right." With a furrowed brow Link reaches into his satchel and produces the key he'd just barely found. His side burns and throbs and he tries hard to ignore it. "Here." For a moment he wants to ask her why in the name of the sweet Sacred Realm she put the key in a place so far away and painful to reach, but he decides against it. It just doesn't seem polite.

She only blinks. With an embarrassed blush creeping up his neck, he remembers she doesn't seem to have hands. Or, she _might,_ under all that clothing, but it certainly doesn't seem like it.

 _How does she even manage to function without hands?_ he wonders to himself.

Just as he's about to awkwardly tuck the key in his pouch again and pretend nothing ever happened, something at her side seems to move - indicating that perhaps, yes, she does have arms - and a little pocket opens up near her leg. "Put key there."

"S-sure." Face still red - either from the warmth or his embarrassing stupidity, he's not really sure - he tucks the key into her pocket.

"Follow me." Then she sets off, waddling toward one of the sets of double doors.

"Um…" Link nervously shifts his weight. "Would you mind going ahead? I need to tend to this." He motions to the wound at his side. Hot blood trickles down his skin and he tries not to flinch at the feeling of it. He should be used to it by now… but he isn't.

"Oh, little human hurt?" Yeta tilts her head and a small frown seems to form on her face. "I'm sorry. Poor human. Okay, I will go ahead, and meet you there, uh?"

Link nods once. "Yes. Thank you, Yeta." Since her arms are still buried beneath all that thick clothing, he at _least_ has the common courtesy to cross the room and open the doors for her. She steps out with a muttered thanks. He hurries to shut the doors behind her once she's gone, because the cold starts to leak in and he doesn't want it. No, not here, in this wonderfully warm room…

Silence falls. Only the dancing flames break it. Clenching his jaw, Link makes his way across the room once more, settling in a beautifully cozy (if not old) chair before the fire. "Oh, thank Din," he breathes, leaning back into the plush chair and closing his eyes for a moment. Despite the pain it gives him, he's too tired to tend to his wound. Maybe if he just takes a quick nap…

"Need help with that?" Midna asks.

"No," he mumbles, voice slurred with exhaustion.

He just _knows_ she's rolling her eyes. "Yeah, of course you don't need my help. You're doing totally okay on your own. Farore, you're so stubborn!"

He hesitates for a while. "Well," he drawls after a long pause, "I suppose… I might need a _little_ help." Reluctantly he sits up straight and cracks open his eyes, only to see Midna floating right there before him.

"A little help?" She scoffs. "You need a _lot_ of help, idiot. You didn't even bring a coat! You could have frozen to death many times on the way here!"

"Says the one who's almost naked."

"Wh -" A fierce blush burns her cheeks. He bites back a grin at the sight of it. "But - but, I have your shadow, where I don't feel the cold. I'm not the one who needs a coat!" She firmly folds her arms across her chest, as if suddenly self-conscious about her aforementioned near-nakedness.

Link can't hold back his grin anymore. Midna glares daggers at him - which only makes that grin of his even wider. "Stop smiling," she huffs. "You're bleeding to death. You shouldn't be happy. Hurry up and take off your tunics and let me tend to that." She motions impatiently with her hand.

He obeys. Midna grabs his satchel as he peels his tunics over his head, flinching in the process, and then he carelessly tosses them aside. The room is so much colder without them. He grimaces and tries to huddle closer to the fire without getting up from the comfortable chair.

Midna produces a bottle of sacred spring water from his pouch and uncorks it. Then she pours it onto a cloth and begins to clean his wound. He cringes at how utterly _freezing_ the water is. "Goddesses, that's cold," he grumbles, and shivers.

"Hold still." The imp bites her lip and leans forward, concentrating hard on washing all the blood away from his angry injury. Link tries not to wince. The process takes much longer than he'd like - but eventually, it's done, and she grabs another bottle of spring water and dumps the entire thing on his side.

He can't help jumping in shock. "Din!" he gasps, and hugs his arms.

"Hey, I said hold still!"

"It's cold!"

"Yeah, you said that already. And what do you expect? It's been outside in the freezing cold for who knows how long." Shaking her head, she fishes through his satchel again and produces a roll of bandages.

He shuts his eyes and resists the urge to shudder. He can feel Midna wrapping the clean cloth strip around his abdomen, fingers slightly clumsy and fumbling. "Is that good?" she asks quietly once she ties the ends.

His eyes flutter open again, and he drops his arms to his sides, glancing down to the bandage. "Yes. Thank you." Her expression seems strangely grim, sunset gaze trained on the white cloth tied around him. He smiles, in the hope that she'll return the expression - but she doesn't. Silence cloaks the room. His smile falls. He opens his mouth to ask what's wrong -

"I caused all these, didn't I?" she mutters.

His brow furrows. "Caused what?"

Her little black hand lifts to his chest - but she stops short, as if afraid to touch him. "All… All those scars."

He peers down at his torso, eyes scanning pink and red gashes, frayed edges and torn skin. Involuntarily his lips curve into a frown at the sight of them. He remembers some. Others, not at all. When and where did he get half of them?

His eyes flick to Midna's then. Still her hand hovers uselessly in the air. A shadow crosses her face and her lips pull into a tight line. "I… I -"

"Midna." His voice is soft, gentle. "None of this is your fault. You don't ever stab me or slice me open." Even though his tone is kind, she winces at the words, squeezing her eyes shut.

"But I've been pushing you so hard, if I'd just -"

"It isn't your fault," he interrupts her before she can get any further. Her hand falls to her side. For a moment he wants to take it into his own - and - maybe he can, it might comfort her, he can't _stand_ seeing her so sad. So before he can give it a second thought, he grasps her hand. Din, it's so _tiny._ Fingers and all, it's no bigger than his palm.

She blinks at him in clear surprise. Hot red sears his cheeks, and he tries in vain to blame it on the fire. "L-look, they don't even hurt anymore. None of them do. Except for, well, the most recent wound obviously, but a wolfos did that to me - not you. And you haven't been pushing me too hard at all. If it weren't for you, I'd…"

He can't even imagine where he'd be without her. Rotting away in a dank dungeon cell, still a helpless, utterly confused wolf trapped in eternal Twilight. "Without you, I'd just - I wouldn't have gotten anywhere," he continues, eyes drifting down to her hand in his. "I wouldn't have escaped that cell. And even if I somehow did manage to, I'd have probably wasted days sleeping in my house in Ordon while the Twilight consumed everything before I knew what was happening. So no, you don't push me too hard."

The hint of a smile tilts her lips. The sight of it makes his heart skip a beat. He returns the smile, and thinks, _Good._ He just wants her to be happy.

"You're so pathetically lazy."

"I know." His smile turns into a grin. "So… what do you say? How about we just rest here for a while?"

"Goddesses… you idiot, you haven't changed at _all!"_ she teases. "You can't keep poor Yeta waiting!"

"But the fire's so warm, and it's cold outside," he complains. "And besides. Don't you want some of Yeto's delicious soup?"

The imp hesitates. "Well, I guess some soup wouldn't hurt," she concedes. "But then we should go after that."

"You'd have to go into my shadow again… Isn't it boring in there?"

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah. It is. But that doesn't matter. We need that Mirror shard. We can take a break _afterwards."_

"All right, fine." He tries pretending to be irritated and fails miserably. There's no way he could ever be irritated with his companion. _Funny,_ he thinks with an inward chuckle. He remembers how he used to hate her too deeply for words. He wanted so desperately to run away and never see her again. Now, the thought of being separated from her makes his heart ache.

"Um." A faint blush dusting her cheeks, the imp slowly - almost reluctantly - takes her hand out of his. He'd completely forgotten that he was still holding it. He quickly averts his eyes, feeling his heart hammering wildly against his chest, for some inexplicable reason, and -

Din, he's not - isn't… No. Not at all, not at all, _no no no._ He tries to chase the thought away but it forces itself into his head anyway.

 _You have a crush on an_ imp, _of all things._

 _No I don't!_

 _Don't try to deny it._

With a grimace he rubs his temples, not in any mood to argue with himself - especially over something this ridiculous. _No I don't,_ he thinks to himself again. It just isn't possible. She's an imp. From the _Twilight._ It isn't right…

"Link?"

His heart stops for a second. He swallows. "Y-yeah?"

"Don't you want some soup?"

He tries to smile. "Of course." Suddenly very aware of the fact he's still shirtless, he stands (a little too quickly, and he tries not to flinch when his side throbs), hurriedly grabbing his tunics and practically throwing them on.

"I'd like some too, remember." She gives him a wide grin and vanishes into his shadow.

Link dons his hat and heaves a shuddering, exhausted sigh. _Just a tiny, stupid crush. If even that. Nothing more,_ he tries to convince himself, as he sets off again.

* * *

 **A/N: Blah. I'm not too sure about this one. It's certainly better than my three previous drafts, all of which were much worse... I don't know if this feels contrived, or too fast, though. (But considering Link's been nervous around her for a little bit now, I thought it'd be weird not to have him realize he at least has a bit of a crush on her. I have no idea. Tell me what you think.)**

 **Unfortunately this is the last of Snowpeak, I think. I wanted to include Yeto, and just... more about the Yetis in general, but I tried to write that and it was horrible. Super boring. I also tried to write about more of Snowpeak ruins and it was also dull and uninteresting. Aaaand I tried to write about Blizzeta, but... Well. Let me sum it up. Link ran around in circles, struggling to use a new weapon, and got some broken bones during the fight. Sound familiar? Yeah, that's because it's basically a copy of the Fyrus fight. I just didn't want to write something so dull and repetitive... Sorry. I'll try not to skip boss fights from now on! I can't promise anything about Armogohma, but I swear I'll write for Argarok, and definitely Zant and Ganondorf! (I mean, obviously, those last two are the main villains of the game...)**

 **Sorry again. :S But thank you guys so much for reading!**


	20. Spring

When he grins the clouds flee, and the sun shows its brilliant face. She, naught more than a shadow, watches, and - in a way - envies him.

Hooves churn grass and dirt beneath them. Link leans forward in the saddle, squinting against the wind rushing past his ears, an exuberant light in his eyes and shining through his very skin.

He might be a bit _too_ excited, Midna thinks with something of a smile. But he deserves this rest. This moment of happiness. Especially after everything he's been through...

Suddenly he pulls his mare to a stop - "Whoa, whoa!" and she skids across the dirt for a little while, tossing her head, before finally managing to slow to a stop. Link swings easily out of the saddle and lands gracefully on the ground. Birds sing joyous songs. Pines and trees burdened with white or pink blossoms soar into the heavens, their wooden fingers touching the sky itself. For a moment the Hylian shuts his eyes; the breeze caresses him and toys with his hair. He lets it.

"Finally! A break!" Link suddenly cries. The abrupt noise shatters the peaceful quiet like glass, surprising Midna and making her gasp against her own will. Smiling widely Link steps toward his house - a tall, fat tree that consumes most the clearing around him - but pauses when his faithful horse nudges his shoulder with her muzzle. He sighs. "Right. I need to unsaddle you. Sorry, girl, got a bit too excited there." He pats her nose for a second before setting to work removing all the gear from his mare, carelessly throwing it aside onto the grass. Once finished, she shakes her mane and gives a whinny of thanks. Link chuckles and pets her nose one last time before turning and excitedly heading up his ladder.

As soon as he opens his door, Midna practically flings herself out from his shadow. "At last!" She yawns loudly, stretching her thin arms above her head. "I was getting so bored!"

"I'm just glad to be away from Snowpeak." Smiling, he unstraps his sword and shield from his back and tosses them aside. The imp only watches, crossing her legs midair and using her hands to pillow her head. "I was getting really sick of that place... to put it mildly." He tears his hat free from his head and runs his fingers through his greasy hair. "Goddesses above. I really need a bath."

"Yeah. You do." The imp smirks at him. "You smell terrible."

"Thanks," he replies, unfazed.

"You're welcome!" Midna chirps. He grins at her. Honestly, his grin is horribly infectious, and she can't help returning it.

"So. I'm going to take a bath," he says after a pause, carefully eyeing her. He slips his fingerless gloves off his hands.

"Uh-huh. Good."

"Yeah," he sighs, setting the gloves aside on a little rectangular wooden table.

Midna blinks at him, pretending innocence. She knows what he's implying. But she wants to tease him. Just a little. So she shrugs her narrow shoulders and leans back. "Get going, then."

She bites back a giggle when an obvious frown flits across his lips, even though he tries to disguise it. Undoing the straps of his leather vambrace and setting it near his fingerless gloves, he slowly tells her again, "Midna. _I'm going to take a bath."_

"That's nice, Link."

"And, what I mean by that is, I'm going to need you to leave for just a bit, so I can have some privacy."

"Privacy?" Midna yawns again, stretching her short legs. "Come on, I've seen you shirtless plenty of times. What difference does it make?"

She can't resist a triumphant smirk when a bright red blush flares across his entire face, even overtaking his long ears, all the way to their pointy tips. "Th - that isn't the same!" he protests, gaze dropping to his boots. He awkwardly shifts his weight. "Goddesses. You're teasing me, aren't you? Should have noticed that earlier..."

Midna laughs, loud and genuine and mirthful. "Yes! You should have!" she snorts in amusement. "Honestly, silly wolf." She gives him a cheeky grin. He only frowns in reply and blushes harder - if that's even physically possible. "Yeah, fine. I'm going," she finally says, and floats out the window. "Call me when you're finished!"

There's something familiar about all this, she thinks as she dives into the shadow of a nearby tree to wait. She remembers doing much the same thing when she'd first met Link. He came to Ordon to bathe, and eat, and rest, and she'd gotten frustrated with him for it. She sighs when she thinks of how little she cared back then.

Now, she cares _too_ much. She might… _might_ even love him, she nervously admits to herself. It would almost be better to hate him still. That way, when the time comes for them to part - and it surely will; light and shadow cannot coexist - it would be so much simpler to just go. If they were still enemies she could not regret leaving. And he would be glad to be rid of her.

But she doesn't hate him. Quite the opposite.

How pathetic. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. And, according to her knowledge, something like this _can't_ even happen in the first place. She's witnessed it herself countless times - the moon drifts away. The sun rises, destroying shadows beneath its brilliant light, and the night exists no more.

Link - he _is_ the sun. He _is_ the blue midday sky. His laugh is the cool afternoon breeze and his smiles tell of green fields glowing beneath sunlight. He's like the world of light personified, she thinks, and sometimes she wonders if that's exactly what he is. But she's just the opposite - complete darkness.

So then... why...?

"Midna!" he calls. His voice breaks her from her thoughts with a start, and she jumps up from the tree's shadow almost against her own will. No tinge of embarrassment in his voice anymore. Now he's back to smiles and pure joy. It almost hurts to look at him; to know she can't see him smile like that forever. It'll have to end one day.

But she pastes a smile on her face and floats in through his window anyway. A gauzy white tunic flows easily off his shoulders, and simple brown trousers complement it. His bare feet pad against the wooden floor as he steps toward his hearth. Wet hair hangs in thick strands around his face.

"You look and smell much cleaner," she comments.

"I _feel_ much cleaner too," he laughs, and shakes out his hair much like a dog would.

Midna rolls her eyes at him. "You're just a dog through and through."

"Of course. Your loyal dog." That accursed smile of his never leaves his face. The sight of it makes her feel like cold fingers are reaching into her chest and squeezing her heart until it wants to burst. But she tries to ignore it. After all their tiresome travels, they finally have a break - and for the love of Nayru, she is going to _enjoy_ it!

"I think all my food has long since gone bad," the Hylian sighs, standing on tiptoe to reach for a jar of apple slices swimming in some sort of thick liquid. He takes the jar and looks it over, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the sight of mold riddling the surface of the fruit. "Din, how long has this been in here?"

"Way too long, that's for sure. What are we going to eat?"

He replaces the jar and runs a hand through his damp hair. "Uh... I don't know. I might have to ask Uli for some of her soup, as much as I don't want to."

Midna motions toward the door. "Well then hurry! I'm getting hungry!"

He turns to look at her and sighs. "Yes, all right, fine. Stay here a moment. I'll be right back." Then without another word he opens the door and vanishes down the ladder.

Silence sweeps into the house after his departure. Not even a fire crackles in the hearth; he hadn't started one yet. Midna presses her lips together and sinks to the floor to sit. And she waits. Waits... _Waits._ She absently chews her lip in the loneliness, inspects her nails, crosses and uncrosses her legs. It's all too much. After spending almost _every_ second of her recent life with Link, it just feels wrong to be so alone; for the world to be so utterly quiet around her.

This is what it will be like when she leaves forever. No more Link. Just a moment like this - except, stretching for the rest of her life.

The thought makes her heart sink. Suddenly the silence grows hands and _chokes_ her and - oh, Goddesses, she can't take it. In a desperate attempt to distract herself she floats up off the floor and explores his house.

A messy table here, a disorganized desk there. Link has so many things cluttering his house - buckets and barrels filled with absolutely nothing scattered along the floor, a pitchfork mounted on his wall, disorganized shelves of plates and bowls and mugs hanging near the fire. The imp glides up the first of two ladders; here, on a little wooden platform jutting out from the wall, lies his humble bed, and beside it a little desk piled with leather-bound books and pencils. Pursing her lips in curiosity, Midna lifts one of the books and flips it open; rough sketches of goats and birds and deer and horses meet her gaze. She thumbs through the pages and finds the latter fourth of them blank. The very last drawing in the book remains unfinished, two little birds chirping at each other on a tree branch. The branch itself is a few simple lines without detail. One of the birds lacks eyes and wings. None of the drawings are all that good. But they make her smile anyway.

 _Are these his drawings, then?_ She sets the little book down on the desk again and floats up the second ladder, which leads to a tiny and completely empty platform; a window looks down onto the ground and into the sky far above, but other than that there isn't anything here. Midna peers cautiously out the little window. And sees Link, making his way back with a content smile on his face.

Hurriedly she floats down to the floor of the house again, struggling to turn the doorknob with her much-too-tiny hands, but she manages somehow. She pokes her head out the door and huffs. "Took you long enough!" she calls down the ladder as Link grasps the first rung with his free hand - the other hand is occupied with a large jar full of soup - and begins to climb. She glides down and takes the jar from him, then brings it into the house.

"Sorry. Uli just wanted to talk." He reaches the top of the ladder and steps inside his house, going to fetch two bowls. "How much do you want?" he asks, removing the lid of the jar and pouring soup into one of the bowls.

"That's good," Midna says when the bowl is half-full. Link pours the rest into the other bowl. He hands her a spoon and she takes it, the wooden utensil feeling unnaturally large in her grip. He sits down in a chair across from her. "So… Do you like to draw?" she questions, thinking of the sketchbook near his bed.

He stares at her as if surprised she asked. "Yes, actually, I do. I mean, I did. But I wasn't very good at it." A sheepish smile crosses his lips. "Ilia was much better..." He trails off then, dropping his gaze and absently taking a bite of soup.

That's right... Ilia. Midna sits on the table, settling her bowl onto her lap and dipping her spoon into the orange-tinted soup to scoop up a taste of it. (It's delicious - if not a bit too simple for her liking.) She remembers him saying he intended to marry his childhood friend, if she ever got her memories back. The imp can't deny that the thought of it hurts. But she tries to push away the feeling. Ilia will be good for him; when Midna eventually needs to leave, at least Link can be happy.

She realizes she hasn't said anything for a while now, and the silence stretching between her and her companion is beginning to feel a bit too awkward for her liking. Midna sips another spoon of soup and desperately reaches for anything she can say. "What is there to do around here, anyway? Other than just nap."

He grins at that. "Lots! I loved fishing, and riding Epona through the forest, and practicing swordplay with Rusl, and playing with the children... and herding goats could be entertaining sometimes, too." She knows most of this, whether he told her before or she just guessed from the way he spoke about Ordon, but she listens anyway. For a moment he seems to lose himself in all his fond memories. Then he returns the question - "What about the Twilight? What's it like? Do you ever find it strange that the sky never changes?"

"The sky _does_ change, silly." Midna smiles. "Only a little, though, and very erratically, so it isn't like we can use that to tell time like you do. Sometimes the sky is golden, sometimes it's dark pink and purple, sometimes it's a really ugly, dingy brown... but that's usually only when it rains. I really love the rain there. It's kind of cold, but it gathers on the ground like a mirror and pours so beautifully off the edges..."

"The edges? Of what?"

"See, in my realm, we have a lot of floating islands," she explains. "A lot of our cities are built on these and connected to each other via bridges. Or sometimes they're not connected at all and we have to fly there on a Kargarok." All while she speaks Link's eyes are wide and focused intently on hers. "Anyway, when it rains, it pools on these islands and then pours off the sides like a waterfall. It's really pretty."

"That sounds amazing." His eyes grow dull and distant, as if trying to picture what she described. "I'd love to see it someday." Then he eats a few more spoonfuls of his food and, around a mouthful of it asks, "What about those little black floating specks? The ones that just go through you if you try to touch them. What do they do?"

"I have no idea!" Midna laughs. "A lot of Twili have tried to come up with an explanation for them, but none of those explanations really make any sense. They're just a mystery, I suppose..."

Fascination shines in his eyes. His soup sits forgotten on the table before him. "What about those markings?" He motions to the cyan lines and circles dipping and swooping across her arms and legs. "Do all Twili have them?"

She nods, admittedly flattered that he's so interested in her and her realm. "Yes. Everyone has them. But they can be different colors and shapes and they can be in all sorts of different locations on the body."

"What about... uh." Light pink dusts his cheeks. "Those clothes. If you don't mind me asking... How in the world do they stay on?"

She giggles at his question - and at his embarrassment. He shyly ducks his head and hurriedly resumes stuffing soup in his mouth. "Well, actually," Midna begins, "these aren't really clothes. They're shadows. All of us Twili have the ability to manipulate them to _some_ extent; hence why I can hide in your shadow. And since cloth is sort of expensive and a bit hard to make in the Twilight, it's more convenient to just wear shadows."

"That's... that's amazing." He forgets his soup yet again and stares at her in awe. "You _wear_ shadows?" he repeats. When she nods, he grins. "The Twilight sounds like a very interesting place."

"It really is." She absently looks down at her food with a small frown. She misses her realm, and worries for her people. Are they all right? She hopes they can wait just a little longer for her.

As if noticing her sudden sadness, Link sets down his spoon and stands. "Here. Come on."

"Huh?" She blinks at him in confusion, but he doesn't respond. He climbs up the ladder that leads to his bed, and then the other ladder after that. With a bewildered frown on her face, the imp glides up after him. He offers her a smile - and slips out his window.

For a moment Midna's heart leaps in panic. She expects him to fall; to crack his head open on the ground below, and she desperately flies out the window after him. But he stands on the rooftop completely unharmed. She breathes a little sigh of relief.

"I really like coming out here when I just need to think," he murmurs, standing on tiptoe and plucking a little pink blossom from the bough of a tree. "Especially in spring. It's my favorite season."

"…Spring?"

"Do you have seasons in the Twilight?" He shows her the tiny flower and she blinks at it in awe. So small and helpless-looking, and yet so beautiful and detailed… She gingerly reaches to it, but stops, afraid the blossom will simply dissolve at her touch.

"I don't think so," she replies.

Link takes a deep breath of the crisp, fresh air and sits down on the roof, leaning his back against the gigantic tree trunk that composes most of his home. "Well… seasons are interesting things. In winter, the snow comes, and all the plants die. In spring they are reborn; little blossoms like these grow on some of the trees, and people start planting crops. Summer is the hottest and when everything is the most lively. Fall comes and everything slowly starts dying, and people begin to prepare for winter again. When spring comes it's the start of a new year."

"Wow." The imp settles beside him, drawing her short legs up to her chest and staring intently at the flower still cupped in his hand. "I don't think we have anything like that in the Twilight. Not _really,_ anyway."

His shoulders droop in contentedness. A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he suddenly takes Midna's hand - her stomach flops at his action - and gently places the little pink flower into her palm. She tries not to let her disappointment show when he drops his hand back to his side again.

"It's so delicate," she whispers, peering at the blossom sitting in her palm. She's afraid to move. It might fall apart if she does.

That tranquil smile never leaves his lips. It calms her, too, and she returns the expression. Then he leans his head back against the tree and breathes a happy sigh, closing his eyes. The cool breeze rustles the branches hanging overhead, and gently runs its fingers through Link's hair. Midna stares at him - at the way the sun glows on his skin and his lashes rest peacefully on his cheeks. Suddenly she has the strange desire to run a hand through his hair. The thought makes her blush and she hurriedly looks away, directing her attention once more to the flower she holds.

She can't fathom how she ever thought the realm of light was ugly. It's beautiful. Just as beautiful as he is. And for a little while, sitting there atop the roof of Link's house, tenderly holding the tiny pink blossom and letting the serene quiet embrace her, she completely forgets that she'll have to leave it all behind one day.

* * *

 **A/N: Hopefully this one isn't boring... I just kinda missed Ordon and I'm sure Link did too. I thought it'd be nice to let these two have a (fairly) normal conversation. And I also brought Epona in because I only barely realized I haven't mentioned her until now. Whoops. xP**

 **Random note - as for Midna mentioning that her people wear shadows... A lot of fans say that her black coverings are just markings, but I disagree because she's got these two little curly things jutting out from her shoulders near her neck, and if she really _was_ naked then why would those exist? You could argue that they're just really weird bits of skin poking out, but eh. I disagree. So I read somewhere on the internet that the Twili might wear shadows, and I thought it was a cool theory that made sense, therefore I decided to mention it. I dunno. x3**

 **Also. Sorry this is getting long, but I feel a need to say this... I hate the Temple of Time. As for _why_ I hate it, I won't ramble about that, but I'm just going to be honest and say it'll be very difficult for me to write since I dislike it so much. Especially since the _entire_ temple is one big discrepancy, and I hate discrepancies and am always trying my hardest to eliminate them from my stories. Think about it - if the _only_ way into the past is via Master Sword, and only Link can wield the Master Sword... how did Zant get a Mirror shard into the past? It makes literally no sense and it bugs the crap out of me. But whatever. I'll try to write about it, because I don't feel like I can just skip the Temple of Time altogether, but just be warned that it might take a while.**

 **Sorry for all that blabbering. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, you guys are amazing! :3**


	21. Time

"I still can't believe it."

Midna sighs. "Yeah… I know. It's interesting."

Link's footsteps ring against marble as he walks, slow, mouth gaping, playful sunlight pouring in through tall windows to dance on the intricate floor and reflect against his skin. "We're actually -"

"Back in time, uh-huh, I know." Though he can't see her, he just _knows_ she's rolling her eyes in his shadow.

He can't help a tiny smile flitting across his lips. At first, they'd _both_ been immeasurably astonished when they'd passed through a set of doors that took them back in time, but now it seems Midna's accustomed to it. Where he's still amazed over it all, she just seems bored.

"But how did that even work? Can I do this type of thing in more places than just one?" His eyes widen at the thought. His heart skips a beat in excitement. "Oh, Din, Midna, what if there are _other places_ I could go back in time?"

She heaves an exasperated sigh. "I doubt it… Now can we go?"

"Well… This gate is blocking the way." He motions to the very obvious golden gate in front of him, intricate swirls curling all over its surface.

"So… Open it."

"But I need to press both switches at the same time to do that." He points to the two golden plates on the ground.

"Yeah. And?"

"I'll press one, and you press the other."

"But there are two little statues on those ledges over there." He imagines she's pointing to the aforementioned ledges and the little statues atop them, even though he can't see her. "Use those."

"You don't want to help me?" He grins.

The imp huffs. "I mean… I _could…_ but those statues are literally right in front of you, and hey, you're supposed to be the hero, not me!"

Link chuckles as he grabs one of the statues (it's surprisingly heavy, despite being somewhat small) and places it on the first switch. He repeats this process with the second switch, and the golden gate swings open.

If he's being honest with himself - he only wanted Midna to help him so that she'd come out of his shadow. Though he knows she's with him every step of the way, he can't help feeling a strange loneliness when she isn't right beside him. Already he misses the simple atmosphere in Ordon Village. The peaceful conversation the both of them had, sitting in his house, eating Uli's delicious soup.

Sometimes this quest feels like too much. Sometimes he wants nothing more than to stop it all.

But - when it finally _does_ end - what will become of Midna? She'll return to her rightful realm, surely. He'll return to being a simple goatherd in Ordon. For some reason the thought of it makes his stomach drop.

Why? He wishes for peace, and for quiet. When he finally gets it - _if_ he finally gets it - will he truly be grateful for it? He presses his lips together into a thin white line and sighs through his nose. Honestly, he doesn't know how to feel about anything anymore. After everything he's been through, settling down in Ordon and trying to return to his old life just doesn't seem right. But then… what else would he possibly do?

Stay with Midna?

No. He's a simple Hylian farm-boy and she's a Twili imp. Hah. What a ridiculous thought.

 _It's just a shallow, pathetic crush,_ he thinks to himself with a sigh as he continues on through the marble halls, tall ceilings soaring above him, golden light pouring in rectangles across white floors. _Nothing more. I'll… I'll stop feeling this way soon._

For some reason, he can't help feeling like it's more than that. Twili imp or not, she's been with him through every step of his journey. She knows exactly what he's been through. She's witnessed his pain, his scars, his battles - his joy, his sadness, his anger… Imp or not, he _cares_ for her.

The thought makes him gulp.

 _But just how much do I care?_

Too much, certainly.

"Hey, silly wolf."

The imp's voice breaks him from his thoughts. And no matter how much he tells himself that, no, she couldn't have _possibly_ heard what he was thinking, he can't help feeling nervous anyway. It must be so obvious. She can read him like an open book. Can't she? He keeps walking, up a set of stairs leading to an intricately-carved door, and tries to smile. "Hmm?"

"You look distracted. You okay?" she asks, almost hesitantly.

His heart beats a little faster. "Just fine," is his casual response, and he desperately hopes she can't hear the nervousness in his voice.

Midna pauses. Only the hollow echoing of his boots against stone stairs breaks the silence. Then, after much too long - "If you have anything you want to tell me, then… um." She falls quiet again.

A smile tilts his lips. She's gotten so much kinder. It's miraculous, really, how much she's changed - how much they've _both_ changed. "Thanks," he replies earnestly, and stops before the door.

Does it really matter who they both are? Because without her, he wouldn't have gotten this far. He wouldn't have escaped that prison cell. He would have wasted away, a confused, lost animal chained in the Twilight. He needs her. And she needs him, too. It's a simple fact - they just need each other. With her, he feels like he can do almost anything.

So he opens the door.

* * *

 **A/N: Ughhhhhh I'm so sorry for this half-baked thing... First off, I really do hate the Temple of Time and it was so difficult just getting the motivation to write this. Second off... Undertale rudely barged in and took over my life... xD**

 **Aaaaanyway, this'll be the first and last you see the Temple of Time. Sorry. I honestly can't bring myself to write any more about it. But I hope this pathetic, short thing wasn't totally pointless - Link's coming to accept his feelings, so that's something, right? I don't know. You tell me. /shrug**

 **Thanks so much for reading, for reviewing, for being patient... you guys are so awesome! ;~;**


	22. Complicated

"Link."

A hand clamps onto his shoulder, and he turns his gaze to find Renado towering over him, something like excitement flickering within his warm eyes.

"I think," the shaman continues quietly, but with clear eagerness in his tone, "Ilia's memory is beginning to return to her."

Link's eyes widen. He stands abruptly from his rickety wooden chair, nearly sending it toppling. He doesn't know what to say, or even how to _feel._ Happy? Relieved? Nervous? For a while he can do nothing more than stand there, lips parted but wordless, the soft crackling of torches the only thing to break the silence.

"How?" he finally manages to ask. "I thought you said…"

"Yes. Her memory loss was induced by dark magic, I fear. But she is slowly beginning to remember on her own. At this point, I would hope that guiding her along the path to regaining her memory would not hurt her."

Link's mouth presses into a line. "You would _hope."_

Renado frowns. "I would prefer to give you fact rather than conjecture, but with Ilia's strange condition, it is all I can give."

So the hero breathes a shaky sigh and runs a hand through his hair. "All right. Where do I start? How do I help her?"

"She mentioned an old woman hiding away deep within a forgotten village. She was very worried for this woman and emphasized that she needs help as soon as possible. Based on her description of its location, I have guessed that it lies past the Bridge of Eldin, but only barely. Sadly, that is all the information I can give you."

That's all? All he has to go off of? "How will this help Ilia regain her memory?" Immediately he winces when the words leave his mouth. They sound so selfish; as if he has no care for the old woman who might need his aid.

"We can only hope she has something to help Ilia; information, perhaps."

Link tries his best to smile in spite of everything. "Thank you, Renado," he says quietly, then turns and leaves the Elde Inn.

Cool night air brushes against his skin as he shuts the door and leans against it. He isn't sure how to feel, because there are too many emotions swirling within him all at once - joy, maybe, apprehension, perhaps even some strange sense of sadness that he can't explain. Will Ilia really remember everything?

"You okay?" the imp asks softly from his shadow.

Link's shoulders sag. "I don't know," is his honest response.

"Sounds like your friend will finally get her memories back. Isn't that what you wanted?" Midna leaps up from his shadow, legs crossed midair. "You were _so_ worried about it back when you first found out. And now she's going to remember everything. That's great, isn't it?"

He studies her face, wondering how _she_ feels about it all, but her expression is inscrutable. He presses his lips together. "Yes. It's wonderful," he manages to say after much too long a silence. But still there's the apprehension, though he can't fathom why. After all this time and all his worries she'll finally remember everything. She'll finally remember _him._

Why can't he be more excited?

Midna stares at him for a moment longer. She doesn't smile, only looks at him, her single visible crimson eye piercing through the darkness of night.

"What?" he asks nervously, idly tightening his fingerless gloves.

"You're just so - _so -"_ She makes a frustrated gesture with her hands and huffs. "There's something wrong, and you're not telling me."

 _"I_ don't even know what's wrong," he confesses, biting his lip. "I think… I'm just nervous, after all this time. And you heard Renado - he said he _hopes_ regaining her memory won't hurt her. But what if it does?"

"Don't think about that. Just…" Midna folds her thin arms across her chest. For a while she hesitates, gaze drifting to the side in thought. "Do your best. I'm sure she'll be fine."

Link only stands there for a while, watching her face, as her expression shifts from something tense to something softer, sadder. She stares down at his feet and idly taps her finger on her arm. Link sighs. "Is there something you're not telling me, either?"

Is that - is that a _blush?_ He can't be sure; it's too dark and it vanishes as soon as it had flared across her pale cheeks. "Nothing," she hurries to say, and dives quickly into his shadow.

His lips curve into a smile. "You can tell me, you know."

"I don't have to tell you _everything,_ silly wolf," she grumbles.

"But if you ever want to."

"…Thanks," she murmurs grudgingly.

Still smiling, Link gathers his faithful mare Epona from where she'd been staying under a rusting tin roof, and after she gives him an affectionate nuzzle and he pats her nose, he swings into her saddle and sets off for the Bridge of Eldin.

* * *

Midna watches from his shadow as Link creeps through the darkness of the cold stone tunnel, wary of whatever strange creatures might be waiting to attack him. It had taken them an entire day of searching to find this place - it's nighttime again, and the blackness of the tunnel is even darker without the light of the sun at their backs.

Eventually the tunnel ends. Stars glimmer in the sky far above them. The full moon sheds bright silver light upon the world below. Link narrows his eyes, long ears listening carefully, and Midna notices his lips curving into a frown as he hears something. She hears it, too - some kind of garbled growl.

Bulblins. And based on the dozens of noises breaking the stillness of night, there are many of them.

The Hylian cautiously takes a step forward and peeks around the wall of the cold, gray stone tunnel. Almost immediately he withdraws again and heaves a long but silent sigh through his teeth.

"Bow," Link whispers, so soft she can barely hear.

The imp doesn't hesitate to leap from his shadow, snap her fingers, and make his bow and arrows appear before him. He smiles at her in thanks, but doesn't dare whisper another word as he slings his quiver over his shoulder and grips his bow tight in his right hand.

Midna dives down in his shadow again to watch. Link takes a deep, steadying breath - then, all in one swift movement, he nocks an arrow to his bow, pulls back the string, steps out from the cover of the stone walls and lets the projectile fly.

She can't help gasping in amazement when the arrow flies true and thuds deep into the chest of a nearby bulblin standing atop a rickety wooden watchtower. It wails, a garbled wail of pain, and falls over the railing to land motionless on the bare dirt road far below, between dozens of dilapidated, abandoned buildings only Goddesses know how old.

Link swiftly ducks into the tunnel again. Midna finds herself smiling. He's gotten much better with the bow in their time together, she thinks.

Once more he steps out from behind cover, aims for a distant bulblin, lets his arrow fly - and watches in disappointment as it sails harmlessly past its target. The beast he'd been aiming for snorts in confusion.

The imp can't help a tiny snicker. "So close," she says quietly as Link grunts in irritation and hides behind the stone wall again.

It takes Link quite a while to pick off the bulblins, one by one. Each time he kills one, they panic a little more, desperately glancing around for their attacker in vain. One time in particular, a beast glances straight toward him, red eyes gleaming through the darkness - but due to its poor eyesight, it sees nothing, and only continues crying out to its brethren in fear. None of them come close to the tunnel to investigate. Midna can only guess that they're much too afraid to.

She finds herself yawning in boredom as the monsters fall one by one. Link's running out of arrows, she notices - he had started out with plenty, but he'd been missing the distant targets quite a few times, and she doubts he'll be able to finish the remaining three monsters with his few arrows.

So with a grin she leaps from his shadow. "Here, let me finish this off," she chirps happily.

The Hylian blinks at her in clear confusion - and then his lips part in surprise, and he hurries to say, "Wait, Midna -"

But she doesn't. She floats out from behind cover, curls her hair into a massive, glowing orange hand, grasps the final three bulblins and tosses them high into the dark sky, enjoying their cries of surprise and fear as they fly far out of sight.

Link stares, mouth agape. The imp hovers down beside him, crossing her legs midair, smirking widely.

It takes a moment for him to regain his composure. "Why didn't you do that earlier?" he complains.

Midna giggles. _"You're_ the hero, silly wolf. I didn't want to steal your spotlight too much!"

He presses his lips into a thin white line - but not before a smile can threaten to curve his mouth for a moment. "Thanks a lot," is his sarcastic response, and her grin widens at that. Maybe she's rubbed off on him a bit too much. Which, in her book, is perfectly fine.

"So what are we looking for?" she asks, deciding to focus on their task rather than spiraling into sarcastic banter - and though she'd love nothing more than to do just that, she's beginning to notice the exhaustion in Link's eyes.

He turns away from her and gazes off into the distance. The old village before him is barely standing; rotting wooden houses creak with the wind whistling through their streets. Massive signs hang askew above missing doors. Dozens of windows are shattered or missing entirely. Link's golden brows knit together as he slowly walks the dirt roads, passing the still corpses of bulblins. Now that they're all dead, and the wind is the only thing to break the silence of night, he stops to study his surroundings and breathes, "What _is_ this place, anyway?"

"Looks like it's completely abandoned." Midna floats at his side, crimson eye narrowed.

"I hope it isn't. Renado mentioned something about an old woman needing help here."

"I hate to say it, but she might already be dead." She motions a tiny hand to their ruined surroundings. "I mean, this place was completely infested with bulblins just a moment ago."

He bites his lip, clearly upset. Midna frowns in sympathy.

Then, suddenly, at the very edge of the village, a door creaks open. For a moment someone peeks out from behind it - and then there's a quiet gasp, and the person is gone before Midna can make out any details.

Link's eyes widen. He breaks into a run. The little imp beside him can barely keep up, and she's gasping for breath by the time he skids to a stop in front of the door. She doesn't want to admit it to him, but using her magic to finish off those last three monsters had sapped her of far too much energy, and she finds it difficult to even remain floating there at his side. She grits her teeth and almost wants to hate herself for it. This accursed, tiny imp form of hers grows exhausted far more quickly than her _true_ form.

With a deep breath, Link lifts his hand and raps his knuckles on the splintered wooden door before him. Midna jumps down into his shadow, figuring that whoever stands on the other side doesn't want to see her otherworldly appearance.

Once more the door cracks open. From behind it peers a tiny old woman, her wrinkled face shining in fear. Midna notices something very strange about her - her eyes are crimson, near as bright as her own.

Link smiles hesitantly, and he opens his mouth to speak - but before he can say a word, the old woman's fear melts away, and she opens the door fully, clasping her hands over her chest. "It's you! It must be! The hero she spoke of…" Her thin lips curl into a wide smile. "Please, forgive me for not opening the door."

Link's smile vanishes, and his brows furrow. "Who's _she?"_

"Oh, I can't remember her name, but that wonderful girl… She stayed with me even as the monsters raided this village, and promised she would help me escape. But alas, there were too many beasts, and I begged her to leave me behind and escape. I would only slow her down, frail as I am."

"What did she look like?" There's no mistaking the excitement in Link's voice.

"Short light hair, green eyes… such a sweet smile." Her red eyes grow distant. "Have you seen her? Is she all right?"

"Does the name Ilia sound familiar?"

"Oh, yes, that was it!" She nods happily, grin widening.

The young man grins at her in return. "Yes, she's all right. She sent me to help you."

"Thank you. So much," and now there are tears shining in the woman's eyes. She reaches into a pocket at her side and slowly draws out a small, strange-looking instrument - white, shaped like a horseshoe, holes carved carefully into its surface at strategic points. "This was hers. She left it behind. Please make sure that it gets to her, won't you?"

The young man's eyes linger upon the object, curiosity and excitement mingling in his expression. Almost reverently he takes it from her, still smiling, and he gently responds, "I will." After he tucks it into his satchel he speaks again. "Will you leave, now that the bulblins are gone?"

The woman drops her gaze, frowning, and her hands fall limp to her sides. "Even after my entire village died off many years ago, still I remain. But perhaps it is time to move on." She gazes sadly at the ruined village around her and breathes a long sigh.

Link watches her sympathetically. "Come to Kakariko. It isn't in much better shape, but it's close, and I'm sure the people there will welcome you with open arms."

"Thank you," she murmurs softly. "Let me gather a few things - I don't have much, so it won't take long. Wait here a moment, won't you?"

When he nods, she vanishes into her house again, and silence follows her departure.

Midna waits for a while to make sure the old woman's really gone before she emerges from his shadow. She folds her arms across her chest and searches his face. There's so much emotion in his eyes. He's hesitant about something, she can tell, but then there's the happiness, and… is that sadness, too? Her lips purse as she tries to figure him out all from a single look.

"Link?"

He offers her a shaky smile.

"You okay?"

He nods slowly, running a hand through his messy hair, nervously shifting his weight. "I just - I still don't know how to feel. Will this be the key to getting Ilia's memory back or will she still not remember anything at all?" She glances down to find his hand on his pouch, where the oddly-shaped instrument lies.

And suddenly, against her will, she feels a hot pang of jealousy. The horrible feeling upsets her - what's _wrong_ with her? Shouldn't she be happy for Link? His childhood friend might remember her past. Her past with Link, and the wonderful memories they no doubt share. Midna remembers him saying, what felt like a lifetime ago, that he wanted to marry Ilia. His childhood friend probably reciprocated the sentiment at one time, and once her memories return, she'll remember that feeling, too. Who can blame Ilia for wanting to be with him? Link is wonderful in every sense of the word.

Midna bites her lip and fights hard to drive the emotion back. She knows she has to leave, eventually. Her time with Link can't last forever. So she tries, tries her absolute hardest, to be happy for him - that, at least when she leaves, he won't be miserable like her. He'll have his childhood friend.

But Midna will have no one.

The thought threatens to break her facade of uncaring. Tears sting at her eyes, for a moment. But she drives those back, too, and just smiles. "Look, it'll be fine, don't stress so much!" is all she says - then she dives back into his shadow, too afraid to face him for a second longer. Because, for just a brief moment, before she'd disappeared into darkness once more, his face had flickered with concern.

"Midna, are you all right?"

 _"Fine."_ Her voice is harsher than she intends it to be. She takes a deep breath and expels it all in a frustrated huff. "I'm just getting a bit tired, aren't you? We've hardly slept!"

Link's shoulders sag and he heaves a long, exhausted sigh. "I know. After we get back to Kakariko, we'll sleep as long as we want, all right?"

"Yeah." The little imp squeezes her eyes shut and, for a moment, only listens to the wind, and to his breaths, and wishes that she were more than just a shadow.

* * *

 **A/N: Wow, it's been a while. If everyone's forgotten this story by now, I really can't blame you.**

 **Long story short, I got a job. A job that, for someone like me, was bad. All my coworkers were nice, which was great and I'm really thankful for that, but the environment was just a bit too stressful for me and utterly killed my motivation. I never had any desire to write, or draw, or play piano, or do _any_ of the things I usually enjoy. It was incredibly frustrating feeling so dead all the time, so I decided to quit. Aaaand... here I am again. I can't promise how quickly this story will be finished, but I'm trying, and we're getting close!**

 **For anyone who's stuck with me so far, really, thank you so much.**


	23. Change

He stands outside the empty doorframe, hand stuffed into his pouch as his fingers gently trace the strangely-shaped instrument over and over again. Midna had stayed behind, hidden in a shadow in the sanctuary, insisting, for whatever reason, that she didn't need to accompany him to speak with Ilia.

Is this it? Will showing this to her really bring back her memories? It can't possibly be that simple. Yet still, he hopes, and pasting a tremulous smile onto his face he enters the room.

It's just as shoddy as he remembers. Elde Inn had suffered extensive damage when the Twilight beasts had attacked. Still, though, all its walls remain, as well as its ceiling, and though doors had been splintered and torn off and furniture destroyed, it's good enough, and Ilia has been staying here ever since she'd arrived in Kakariko.

She sits at the edge of a creaky bed, staring mindlessly at her hands, lost deep in thought. She doesn't even notice Link enter. He nervously clears his throat.

"Oh!" Ilia jumps to her feet. Her forest-green eyes flick to meet his azure ones, and a weak smile crosses her lips. "I'm so sorry, I didn't…" She trails off. "I've been thinking."

"About what?" He takes a few nervous steps forward, fingers still curled round the object the old woman had given him.

"I'm starting to remember things. Vaguely." Her fingers knit together and she drops her gaze again. "I don't remember anything specific, really, just snippets. And most clearly I recall that poor woman all alone surrounded by monsters… and…" She frowns and doesn't continue.

"She's here now," Link tells her. "I got rid of the monsters and brought her here. She's safe."

Ilia's face softens. There might be tears glistening in her eyes; tears of relief. But she blinks them away and nods. "Thank you."

"She…" Link hesitates, nervously shifts his weight, grips the instrument tighter. "She gave me something. Here."

So he pulls it from his pouch. His fingers graze the little holes carved carefully into its smooth surface, and as he shows it to her he tries not to let his hopes get too high. He isn't even sure what it is. He hasn't seen it before. So then why is he hopeful that it will somehow return her memory to her?

Ilia blinks. Cautiously she reaches out, fingers trembling, and for a while her hands only hover above his. "This," she breathes. "There's something… familiar…"

"Is there?" His apprehensiveness begins to fade like night in the wake of dawn, and he takes her hand, gently pressing the item into her palm.

Her eyes drift shut. Her lips part, and she whispers something inaudible as she traces her fingers along the horseshoe-shaped instrument. "I remember something," she murmurs. "There were fields… and farms, and forests, and… someone." Her brow furrows. "Someone always beside me."

He smiles genuinely, all his worries gone now. A peaceful silence hangs in the air between them for a while as she simply _remembers._

"Link," she realizes, and the name is no longer hollow, uncomprehending; it holds behind it their shared memories and their childhood, and then her eyes fly open, tears streaming openly down her pale cheeks. She smiles shakily and meets his eyes. "I - I think - it was you. You were there."

He nods slowly, his smile widening. Her breath hitches in her throat, and she wipes her face with the back of her hand, releasing a tremulous but relieved laugh. "How could I have forgotten?" she sighs, staring down at the instrument clutched tight in her hand. "I… I made this for you, before you left. I wanted to make sure you could play that beautiful song wherever you went." So she takes his hand into both of hers, pressing the item into his calloused palm, and her deep green eyes - they're so beautiful now, he realizes, just like the forests they had loved so much when they were little, so _familiar_ for the first time in a long time.

"Will you play that song again for me?" she asks quietly. "If you still remember."

For a moment he studies the strangely-shaped instrument, puts his fingers over the holes, then places his lips to it and blows a single note. It comes out squeaky and unsure; they both laugh a little, and he experiments with the item for a moment longer. Then, when he feels confident enough, he takes a deep breath and plays a simple melody. It was one his horse Epona had liked. He'd somehow figured out how to play it using the horseshoe-shaped grasses growing all around Ordon Village, and his mare had always come running to him whenever she'd hear it. And Ilia, she'd always loved listening to it, as simple as it was, and now she closes her eyes in contentment, softly humming along to the tune.

She heaves a shuddering sigh when it's over. Her hands clasp together over her chest, and she searches his face, for a long while remaining silent before she dares to utter, "Link…"

He looks at her, his smile never leaving his face.

Faint pink dusts her cheeks. "Could… could you say my name? It's been so long."

"Ilia." He grins. "It's good to have you back."

Her cheeks only grow redder. She drops her gaze to the wooden floorboards beneath her feet and swallows heavily. "You'll have to go again, won't you?"

This time his smile finally drops. He runs a hand through his hair. "…Yes."

"What are you doing out there, traveling so far and always returning so wounded?" She purses her lips and looks up to him again, curling her hands into fists until her knuckles turn white.

He hesitates. "Trying to fix everything."

"Everything? All on your own?"

His smile returns then. "I'm not alone." He thinks of the imp with him every step of the way. But he can't tell Ilia about her, so he settles on saying, "I have plenty of people to help me along the way."

Ilia sighs softly. "I really worry for you - even when I didn't know who you were at all, but your eyes seemed so familiar, even _then,_ I always worried."

"You don't need to. I'll be fine," he tries to assure her.

She bites her lip. "What if you never come back?"

His stomach drops at that thought. But it won't happen, he tells himself, he'll manage to make it through. Or so he hopes. But that dark reality still lurks in the back of his mind, the fact that one day he might not manage to parry an attack on time, or something might sneak up on him from behind, or maybe he'll be asleep and entirely unaware -

"S-so," she breathes shakily, squeezing her eyes shut tight. "Link, in case you don't come back, I could never forgive myself if I… if I…"

"What?"

She sucks in a deep breath as if steeling her resolve. "I love you."

His heart skips a beat and heat spreads fast across his face. His mouth opens, then closes again, and he realizes he can't even find words to respond.

She watches his reaction, smiles as he only grows more and more flustered, as he nervously attempts and fails to stammer some sort of response, and his gaze drops to his feet. "Uh," he finally manages. What can he possibly say? He loves her, too - but when he thinks of the way he loves her he thinks of his adopted parents Uli and Rusl, and their son Colin, and all the other villagers of Ordon. Of course he feels a little different about her. Closer. She's his childhood friend, after all, but…

Unbidden his mind drifts to Midna, and he hurriedly steers his thoughts away from that particular direction. _Not now,_ he thinks, clenching his jaw.

He realizes, belatedly, that he'd been frowning. He hurries to wipe the expression off his face and tries in vain to calm his hammering heart. What can he possibly say to her?

She only watches his reaction for a while. "You… you don't have to say anything," she tells him kindly. "Not for now. I just wanted to get it off my chest." She laughs. "So, please, Link, keep yourself safe, and always come back, won't you?"

For a while he can only stand there, face still hot, but he nods and smiles back anyway. "I will."

"Thank you." She searches his face, tears gathering in her eyes all over again, and he worries it might be _his_ fault, and he feels terribly guilty - but still, still she's smiling. "Just promise me you'll be okay."

It seems a shallow promise. One easily broken. But he nods anyway. "I will. And I promise you, I'll make it safe for you and the children to return home to Ordon."

"Thank you. For everything." She wipes at her cheeks. "I'll see you soon, won't I?"

"Of course," he pledges, taking a step back.

She nods but can't muster the words to reply. And though he wants to tell her goodbye, that single word sounds so wrong, and he thinks it might be better to leave her only with his promise of return. So without another word, he turns, and leaves.

He makes his way down the stairs and out the front doors of the inn, tucking Ilia's instrument into his pouch as he goes, a maelstrom of confused thoughts swirling in his head. The sun shines bright above him. He shuts his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath of the refreshing air - well, he supposes it's a little hot, as it always is in Kakariko, but he basks in it anyway. The children chase each other in circles through the dirt streets, shouting and laughing as they go, Talo wielding a thin stick and Colin and Beth running from it as if their lives actually depend on it. But they stop to wave at Link when he passes them by, and he absently returns the gesture, trying a smile on his face.

He enters the empty sanctuary and shuts the door behind him, needing a moment to himself. There are so many conflicting emotions battling within him and he can't tell if he should be grinning or wallowing in guilt.

There's happiness - happiness because she _finally_ remembers, after all this time, and sometimes he had worried that she never would, that she'd be a stranger forever, but she isn't. She's herself again.

But then there's the the sadness. She had known he couldn't say he loved her, at least not the same way she loves him.

Dear Nayru. How can he even face her anymore…?

He must have looked like a beached fish, he thinks with a deep sigh, the way he'd floundered for words and couldn't find them at all. Din above, things would be so much easier if he could just stick to slaying monsters and not have to worry about all… _this._

"Link," Midna finally says, startling him. She leaps up from a shadow beneath a bed, staring at him with concern in her single visible crimson eye. "Are you… okay?"

"Sure."

She cocks a brow.

He huffs and tugs a hand through his messy hair. "That was - it was so sudden," he says, and only after the words leave his mouth does he realize that no, it hadn't been sudden at all. He knew her father had always expected them to marry when they were older. But they had been naive children then, not quite understanding what that meant, and they'd never talked very seriously about it at all.

"What was sudden?" she asks in confusion.

"She - she said she loved me. And I didn't say anything in return. What was I _supposed_ to say?"

Midna stares at him, her expression entirely inscrutable, and for some reason the fact that he can't read any emotion in her face at _all_ makes him nervous. "Why… didn't you say you loved her, too?"

His lips press together into a thin line. "I don't feel the same. I can't lie to her."

Then there's something in her expression - something faint, but still undeniably there. It's strangely bittersweet, hopeful and sad all at the same time, and he wishes he could understand it. "You told me you wanted to marry her."

He'd told her that? When?

Midna folds her arms across her tiny chest and frowns. "So… what made you change your mind…?"

 _You,_ he wants to say, but he bites his tongue and leans back against the thick doors behind him, his heart a stone in his chest. "Lots of things," is his vague response, and his eyes drift off to the side. "This… this quest and everything in it. I feel like the whole world around me has changed. _I've_ changed."

She studies him carefully. "Not in a bad way, though."

And in spite of everything, he finds himself smiling, even if only a little. "No. Maybe not. And you've changed a lot too."

She grins, her single fang poking from beneath her pale lips, and he can't help wanting to return the expression. "Not in a bad way," she chirps again.

"No," he chuckles, "not at all."

* * *

 **A/N: idk how to feel about this .-. I kept nitpicking at it for a while before I decided I'm gonna be unsatisfied with it no matter what, so whatever, here it is.**


	24. Outside

"The sky. How am I supposed to get _there?"_

Link lies on his back in the swaying grasses of Hyrule Field, reaching a hand for the clear blue sky above him. A frown flits across his lips. The task to find the shards of the mirror seems more and more impossible with each passing day. He'd found two already - now he just needs one more. But how? How is he supposed to grow wings and fly?

Midna sits at his side with her knees drawn to her chest, thin arms wrapped around her legs. "I don't know," she grumbles.

He sighs heavily. "Where would it be?" He turns on his side to face her, and with a huff she falls flat on her back beside him, looking at him from the corner of her eye.

"I don't know! I'm just as irritated as you are. Why were those stupid sages so _vague?_ They should have helped us out a little more instead of just telling us to find it somewhere in the sky! Thanks, that _really_ narrows it down for us!" Her voice rises with each word until she's nearly shouting in frustration, and she throws her arms up into the air, letting them fall limp to her sides a moment later, crimson eyes burning.

In spite of his growing frustration, Link can't help being amused by her antics. He pushes himself up on his elbows and rests his chin in his hand, smiling at her. "Maybe we should just stop stressing."

Midna blinks at him. "Yeah, we already _said_ we'd do that, but it's kinda hard not to when it feels like the final step towards saving the world is barely out of our reach." She grits her teeth.

"I know. But we're not getting anywhere by worrying."

Her expression softens, just a little. "Whatever. As long as we don't spend too long just sitting around twiddling our thumbs and doing nothing at all."

For a few days they'd both been stewing over how to reach the sky, growing increasingly irritated and distressed when neither of them could come up with anything. And so, that morning, they both agreed to just relax and allow themselves to calm down, hoping that doing so would give them an idea rather than trying to force one to come to them. Link had taken off his heavy green tunic and the mail armor one, leaving the more comfortable white one beneath. Midna had removed her horned helmet and let her hair flow free in an attempt to force herself to loosen up, but in spite of that, she still seems restless.

Still, he likes the way her vivid orange hair frames her round face. It glimmers beneath the sun, strands of fire, contrasting starkly with her pale blue skin and cyan markings, truly making her look like a being from another world.

Too late he realizes he'd been staring when Midna cocks a thin brow at him. "What are _you_ looking at?"

He blushes, but instead of looking away he grins, and states, "You can float."

"…What? Where is this coming from? What does this have to do with anything?"

"Why don't you fly up as high as you can and look around for whatever it is that we're supposed to find?"

"I wish," she huffs, "but I can't fly very high, or for very long. But if we get desperate enough, I could try…" Her gaze grows distant, and she chews her lip in thought.

"Well if it won't work…" With a sigh he falls onto his back again.

Then it's Midna's turn to stare at him. "Weren't you the one who said we should just relax and not worry about this for now?"

Link pillows his head on his arms and shuts his eyes, allowing the cool breeze to tickle his skin and run fingers through his freshly-washed hair. "You're right." For a while there's a comfortable silence between them. Then the young Hylian man turns on his side to face her again. "What should we do to relax, then?"

"Uh…" She glances to him and purses her lips. "Just lay here?" But her dull tone clearly indicates just how boring she thinks that would be.

His eyes brighten. "Why don't we do something in Castle Town? There's plenty of fun things to do there."

Midna grins. "Like run around in your wolf form and scare everyone?"

He tries and fails to hide his smile. "Something else. A bit nicer, maybe."

But the imp's smile fades, and she turns her back to him, leaving Link to wonder what he'd said to offend her. "That'd be great, if all the light-dwellers here wouldn't run screaming in fear the moment they see me." She curls in on herself and breathes a long sigh.

"I… don't run screaming in fear."

She says nothing.

He takes a deep breath and continues in an attempt to cheer her up, to lighten the suddenly dark mood that had befallen the both of them. "The opposite, in fact. I don't… don't know where I'd be without you, and -" But he can't find the courage to finish that thought. He clenches his jaw tight and wishes the golden mark on his left hand actually _meant_ something. It's supposed to be the very symbol of courage itself, and yet sometimes he feels so weak, so pathetic.

For a brief moment he swears Midna's shoulders shudder, and his eyes widen. Is she _crying?_ But then the second passes, and she's just as still as she was before, save for her even breaths. She doesn't speak a word.

Link sits there, wondering what in the world he can do, how he can take her grief away from her. A long silence falls between them. _Much_ too long. But then he closes the distance between them, laying down beside her and wrapping an arm around her. Din, she feels _so_ tiny and fragile, and he wonders how she can hold such strength within such a small frame. "What is it? What's wrong?" he asks gently.

She shudders and takes a deep, shaky breath. "Nothing."

 _"Nothing?_ Really? Midna, I just want to help, if I can, please…"

She turns to him then, and he can clearly see the tears glistening in her sunset eyes - but before he can say anything else, she buries her head in his chest. She doesn't cry, doesn't say anything, just stays there, quiet, save for her deep breaths. Link finds himself wanting to run his fingers through her hair, brush away her tears, tell her it will all be fine…

And he realizes he loves her. Far more than the simple, shallow crush he'd originally tried to pass it off as, it's _much_ more than that. He cares for her, wants her to be happy, wants to help her in any way he can… Already he'd searched for the pieces of the Fused Shadow for her, and now the shards of the Mirror of Twilight, but quite suddenly that doesn't feel like enough. All he wants now is to know how to comfort her. How to make her feel better. "Midna," he whispers.

Her only response is a sniffle. But after a moment she sighs into his tunic, and he thinks it might be a contented sigh. He finds his lips curving into a smile at the sound of it.

How strange, he thinks, that he'd fallen in love with a little imp. An imp he had despised when he'd first met her, and who had despised him in return. But they had grown to understand each other. And with his arm wrapped around her small body, feeling the warm skin of her back beneath his palm, he realizes they're not quite so different.

Midna grasps his tunic in her tiny fists as her breathing evens out. He buries his face in her soft hair and shuts his eyes, glad that the both of them have finally seemed to calm down.

The gentle wind rustles the leaves of the few trees scattered across the green fields around them. Birds sing in their branches. The warm day is so peaceful that eventually, Link finds himself drifting into a half-sleep, only barely aware of his surroundings.

Until, out of nowhere, a thought pops into his head.

He's wide-awake then, smiling at his own ridiculous idea, staring unseeing off into the distance and wondering if he could actually make it work. "Midna," he says excitedly.

"Hmm?" she slurs groggily, half-asleep.

"What if we ride a Kargarok into the sky?"

Silence.

It stretches on much too long, until the Hylian's grin falters. Midna groans and buries her face even deeper into his chest, as if to block out the light of the sun around her.

"You really _are_ a stupid wolf," she grumbles.

He laughs.

* * *

 **A/N: Ugh, you guys, I'm sorry. I feel like this chapter is slow and boring and kinda filler, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't seem to write anything different or more exciting. I'll try harder next time but I figured I'd just post this for now, since I already had it written up and nothing else was working and I've kept you waiting long enough already.**


	25. Flight

Crimson eyes stare into the blackness of night. Clouds cover the face of the moon, and distant wolves howl, their cries carried on the cold wind. Midna sits on the roof of Link's house in Ordon, wrapping her arms around her small frame and shivering.

Link's inside, sleeping - or so she hopes he is. They'd decided to spend the night in his home village before setting off to try and reach the Mirror shard in the sky.

She doesn't know how to deal with being around him anymore. Just that day she'd nearly cracked. They'll have to part, inevitably, and that thought has been weighing on her for far too long. She wants to be angry with herself for showing such weakness, for clinging to him like that and burying her face in his chest, but she can't regret it. It had been wonderful and oh so confusing all at the same time. Lately she's been noticing things. The way he looks at her, a pathetic little imp, with such gentleness, such concern. The way he smiles at her. The way he'd wrapped his arm around her and held her close and…

Din above, she hates herself for feeling this way. For wondering, _hoping,_ that he might love her the way she loves him.

Midna breathes a long sigh and rubs her arms in an attempt to drive away the gooseflesh there. Maybe she can try to make things work. Try to form some kind of treaty between the light and the dark. But then something terrible like this might happen again - a power-hungry Twili invading the world of light and suppressing its people. For Link's sake, and for his kind, she can't let that happen again, can't let them suffer the same fate in the future.

She tries to convince herself that it's for the best. And, in the meantime, she determines to enjoy her remaining time in the realm of light, and to stop _worrying_ so much.

So she turns and flies back through the small open window, slowly drifting down the ladder to the platform below on which which Link's bed rests. He's lying there so peacefully, eyes closed, blankets draped haphazardly over his body, golden hair an unruly mess on his head. She smiles faintly at the sight of it as she perches quietly at the edge of his bed. His breaths are quiet and even. For just this one moment, there's none of the usual worry in his face; his shoulders aren't weighed down by the world like they always are.

Midna wants nothing more than to tell him how she feels, and for him to say the same thing back to her. She almost wishes he could follow her to her realm. But no. That would be far too selfish. He's the sun itself, and like the flowers of Hyrule, he would wilt in the darkness. Perhaps, then, she could stay with him here.

She swallows at the thought. _Impossible._ She's bound to her people, and to her duties, and she can't simply abandon them like that… no matter how much she wants to.

She settles in the shadows underneath his bed with a great sigh and drifts into a fitful slumber.

* * *

Morning brings light and warmth and… is that humming?

Midna groans and weakly opens her eyes. Sunlight streams through the windows all along Link's house, and she thinks she can hear him humming a quiet but happy tune as he cooks something. Whatever it is, it smells delicious.

She almost doesn't want to get up. But the scent of food is too amazing to ignore, so she emerges from the shadows with a yawn and floats slowly down to the main level of Link's strange hollowed-out tree house. He stands in front of a crackling fire, stirring something within a great pot hanging over it. Some kind of stew, it seems.

"It's way too early for you to be this happy," she grumbles, arms folded across her chest.

Link glances at her over his shoulder with a grin. "I thought you'd never wake up. I don't even know where you decided to sleep."

She smirks. "Hiding under your bed. Like the monsters in the stories."

"Terrifying," he responds sarcastically, still smiling as widely as ever.

"Glad you think so!" she chirps. "I'm the scariest monster you'll ever meet."

 _"You?_ Come now. You're too small to be scary."

"Too small?" Midna lifts an eyebrow. "But those spiders in the Temple of Time were even smaller than me, and I'm pretty sure you were terrified of those."

Link looks away, his mouth twisting into a grimace. "All right, you win," he grumbles, returning his focus to stirring the stew.

The imp giggles.

A comfortable silence passes between them then, broken only by the merrily blazing hearth. Link sighs and runs a hand through his messy hair as he watches the stew simmer. "Sorry it's taking such a long time. I promise we'll set off immediately after breakfast."

"No hurry," Midna replies with a casual shrug. She knows she should be anxious to save her people from Zant. They're suffering, after all - and the thought makes her jaw clench and her gaze drop. But part of her - the horrible, selfish part - never wants the moments like these to end. Just simple, peaceful moments spent with him, not worrying about monsters or battles or injuries or death or…

She realizes her mouth had twisted into a frown, and she hurries to banish the expression before Link can ask her what's wrong. His concern is always sweet, really, but she has no idea how to express her conflicting feelings. She takes a deep breath and tries to focus on something else. "Are we _really_ planning to ride a Kargarok into the sky?"

"Do you have any better ideas?"

Midna hesitates for a moment, wracking her brain to come up with something, _anything_ else. "We could… shoot ourselves out of a massive cannon," she says jokingly.

"Yes, because that will be _much_ safer than riding a Kargarok."

Midna laughs much too hard at that. "You're beginning to understand sarcasm quite well, Link! I'm proud of you."

"I have only you to thank." He grins.

"You're welcome! I'm so glad I could help you stop being such a stick in the mud."

With a quiet chuckle, he dips the spoon into the simmering stew and takes a sip. "It's warm enough," he murmurs, mostly to himself, as he reaches into his cupboards for bowls and spoons - all wooden and somewhat shoddily-crafted.

"Did you carve those yourself?" Midna finds herself asking.

"Um… yes," is his hesitant reply. "They're not very good. But they work well enough." He fills one of the bowls and hands it to her. She takes it over to the table along with a spoon, and dips the utensil into the steaming soup.

It isn't the most delicious food she's had by far. But it has that home-cooked charm to it, no matter how simplistic it is, and she finds herself enjoying it. She also realizes just how hungry she is when she ends up scarfing down the soup almost before Link can even start.

He blinks in surprise when he notices she's finished already. "Do you… want seconds?"

She dismissively waves a hand. "Thanks, but I'm fine. I'm just excited to get going and see how in the world you plan to tame a Kargarok."

"Me?" He chuckles and shakes his head, long hair swaying back and forth at the movement. "I thought _you_ could do it. You managed to tame that strange headless bird that one time. Remember? In the Twilight-covered Lanayru? I must admit, that was very impressive."

"Ugh, that thing?" Midna rolls her eyes. "But those are different than the Kargaroks you have here."

"Worth a try, isn't it?" he says with a grin, then proceeds to hurriedly devour his breakfast. "Let's go."

* * *

 _"Grab it, Midna!"_

She doesn't know why in Din's sweet name Link thought this was a good idea. It's utter chaos. He gallops around Hyrule Field on Epona's back, barely managing to stay just underneath a squawking Kargarok, trying desperately to keep its attention off the little imp. Said imp rolls her eyes, but complies anyway, her bright orange hair stretching into a massive hand and clamping down over the poor monster's eyes. Then she collapses onto its back, clinging tightly as it bucks and screams and sways.

"Calm down!" she hisses. "Obey me!"

It refuses.

Her hand-hair lets go of its face for just a moment, only to transfer to its neck. "Obey me and I won't _strangle_ you," she growls impatiently.

It takes a long time of gripping tight to its back as it thrashes and wails, but finally she gains _some_ semblance of control. She grips its skull with her hand-hair and, in whichever direction she turns its face, it has at least a somewhat good chance of heading in that direction. It's a stubborn creature, though.

"Hurry up, Link! Turn into a wolf! You'll be lighter that way!"

Link slips off Epona's back and pats her neck, telling her to go straight to Ilia to be unsaddled and pampered in whatever other way Ilia wants to help the mare. To Midna's surprise she actually seems to understand, and gallops off in the direction of Kakariko - which isn't too far away. "See, I knew you could do it!" he calls to Midna.

She rolls her eyes and huffs. "Just hurry up!" With a snap of her fingers, the Shadow Crystal appears in the air right above him, falls on his nose, and turns him into a wolf all before he can really register what's happening.

A wide grin splits Midna's face when he shakes out his fur and gives her a wolfish glare. "This was _your_ idea," she reminds him. "Ready?"

With a sigh he clambers clumsily onto the Kargarok's back and clings for dear life, as best as he can with naught more than paws. The creature protests and squawks, but with a firm hand from its new master, it calms down marginally.

"Here we go!" she calls - and then gripping its skull with her hand-hair and pushing its face skyward, the Kargarok sails off into the clear blue day, Link howling in terror on its back, Midna cackling in joy. This is so much more fun than she could have ever expected!

* * *

 **A/N: ahahahaahhahaa the Kargarok-riding thing is just too ridiculous and hilarious and I had to go with it. Plus, no matter _how_ silly it is, you can't convince me that Link being shot out of _a freaking cannon_ is any less insane.**

 **Anyway sorry for slow updates. School is... interesting, and I have a few other projects I'm trying to work on, but I am absolutely determined to finish this fic. Thanks for your patience! You guys are amazing.**


	26. Sky

Claws rake into his arm. Link stumbles back with gritted teeth, sword held tight in his left hand. The massive bird-like creature before him caws in anger, reaching out its long, sharp talons once more to attack. But this time the hero is ready. He thrusts the blade of the Master Sword toward the creature's chest, pressing the tip between its scales and feeling hard resistance give way to soft flesh. The beast wails in agony as its leathery wings crumple and its body falls lifeless to the worn stone floor.

Three more creatures swoop in to take their fallen kin's place. Link's jaw clenches tight as they dive at once, two with their talons spread to slash him and one with its sharp beak wide open. Link pivots out of the way of the former two and brings his sword down on the long neck of the last, not quite beheading it but coming close. Blood gathers in the fresh wound and spills as the bird falls, unable to even cry.

But then half a dozen more lunge for him, and he ducks, their beaks barely missing his head. And behind them is an entire flock, hissing and crowing, impatient for their turn to rip a chunk from the Hylian in front of them.

Link's gaze frantically darts back and forth, surveying the room - it's cylindrical, made of ancient stone that might have been white once, with a gaping hole in the center leading down only to the vast blue sky below. A door sits on one end, and another door opposite to it, all the way on the other side of the room. He can't go back the way he came - the previous room was home to a massive armored creature that charged at him like a boar, and unable to think fast enough to combat it, he'd merely fled.

And then emerged into this room full of far too many Kargaroks to defeat on his own.

He realizes, as another one of the bird-like beasts swoops for his head once more and he barely manages to dodge, he'll have to flee again.

"Link?" Midna calls from his shadow. "I can try to -"

"No, it's too dangerous!" The last thing he wants is for the little imp to be swarmed by monsters, her tiny body pecked and torn to shreds until she's an unrecognizable mess -

The mental image makes him shudder. And then a second later he's running for his life, sweat beading on his forehead, heart racing.

With an angry caw a Kargarok dives in front of him. Its talons reach for his chest. Link skids to a stop, barely pausing to think before his sword darts out as fast as the tongue of a snake, slicing into the creature's side. Its scales just manage to protect it, and the cut is shallow - but it's enough to catch it off guard, and its wings freeze in pain as it spirals down into the sky below.

Then another beast replaces it. Its beak aims for Link's throat, and he only just stumbles out of the way. His feet draw dangerously close to the edge, and his heart lurches as suddenly the clouds are swirling below him and he can't stop and his head spins wildly -

 _"Link!"_ Midna cries, leaping up from his shadow with horror etched all over her face. He trips and falls over the edge with a shout of fear - and her hair lunges forward after him, thousands of strands curling together to form a massive hand that grabs him and sets him down safely on solid ground once more.

One of the Kargaroks locks its eyes onto her and hisses, sweeping in to peck her leg before she can even think to dodge. She yelps in pain and the new wound immediately begins to bleed. Teeth bared, her hair drops Link, leaving him shaking and panting at the edge of the pit, both fear for his near-death and and anger at the Kargarok that hurt Midna swirling inside him all at once. He can only watch and try in vain to catch his breath as the giant orange hand of her hair bats away the Kargarok like it's nothing more than an insect.

But a dozen more replace it. Wide-eyed, Midna can only stare at the impressive mass of them, all hissing and spitting and glaring.

"Midna!" Link calls frantically. "Hurry!"

She doesn't waste another moment in rushing to his side and vanishing into his shadow. And the second she does, he bursts into a run, the countless beasts crowing at his back, their wingbeats loud and much too close for his liking. He's almost to the door. Only a matter of meters now. Four meters, three, two -

A Kargarok slams into his right shoulder from behind, knife-like beak latching onto the skin beneath his tunics and refusing to let go. And Link decides he's had _enough._

With a cry of both pain and anger, he whirls around, rage blazing in his eyes. These stupid beasts gashed his arm, nearly threw him off the edge, and, worst of all, _dared_ to hurt Midna. With a terribly wolf-like snarl in the back of his throat, he lunges forward, his already-bloodied blade piercing deep into the bird-creature's eye.

It can't even wail before its body goes limp and crashes to the cold, unforgiving stone. Link steps on the Kargarok's corpse for purchase and tugs his blade free from its head.

Then, finally, with his heart thumping wildly against his ribcage, palms sweating uncontrollably, he spins and and desperately throws the door open, praying that there won't be any monsters to greet him on the other side.

Thank the Goddesses - there aren't. It's a wide room, soft grass and wildflowers sprouting from the floor, broken stone walls forming a circle around the miniature field and leaving the ceiling open to bright blue sky.

Link doesn't waste a moment in sheathing the Master Sword and asking between his ragged breaths, "Midna... are you all right?"

"I'm fine, it's nothing. You're the one I'm worried about!"

"Me?" He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of a hand and breathes hard. "I'm... all right. Just - just a couple cuts."

"Really? It looked to me like they were bleeding badly!"

"So was yours. Won't you come out and let me help?"

The little imp heaves a deep sigh. Then, with a huff of frustration, she jumps up to face him, floating midair and clenching her little hands into fists, trying much too hard to ignore the trickle of blood from her injury. "See?" she says through gritted teeth. "Yours are way worse! You're bleeding a lot more than I am."

"That may be so, but my cuts are shallow."

"So's mine! It's nothing to worry about. Fix yourself up first, before you bleed to death." She frowns and stubbornly crosses her arms.

He blinks at her, a smile working its way onto his face when he realizes they're arguing over whose wounds are worse.

"What's that look for?" Midna grumbles.

"Nothing," he replies with a light chuckle, sinking down against the wall behind him and resting his back against its cool surface. Once he's sitting, he fishes through his pouch for the spring water and the plentiful bandages he'd packed for their journey. He finds them and pulls them out, along with a clean rag. "Why not tend to your wound first? Since it's smaller, it'll go faster."

She throws her arms into the air in frustration. "That makes no sense. Mine's smaller, so of course it can wait while we focus on your far more serious injuries!"

"I'm fine. I can barely even feel anything." He grins as if to prove this statement, although it's very obviously a lie. The cuts burn and ache, and the uncomfortable sensation of hot blood trickling down his skin is something he doesn't ever think he'll be accustomed to.

 _"No,"_ Midna insists, narrowing her eyes. She snatches the cloth from him before he can even react, and holds out a hand, demanding, "Give me the spring water."

"But -"

"Hand it over."

His shoulders sag - and he tries not to wince at the action, since it makes his newest wound protest. "You're very stubborn."

"And you're just noticing this?" With a faint smile, the imp uncorks the bottle of sacred spring water and douses the rag with it. "Take off your tunics; I can't exactly wash and bandage your shoulder otherwise."

He obeys, failing to hide a grimace when his shoulder flares with pain. Midna sends him a concerned look for a moment before immediately setting to work washing the blood away from his gashes. She works with gentle fingers, and the coldness of the water against his burning injuries is soothing, so much so that he finds his eyes drifting shut in exhaustion. His adrenaline fades, and with the open ceiling allowing much-too-cool air to flow around him, he soon grows uncomfortably cold. Eventually Midna's careful cleaning turns a bit more thorough, and he winces over and over again as she washes out the bite mark on his shoulder and the gashes on his arm. Then she finishes her work by wrapping bandages around him - and as soon as she's done he produces another clean cloth from his bag (and notices it's his last one).

Midna frowns absently. He offers her a reassuring smile as he pours healing water all over the clean cloth. She settles reluctantly onto his knees, mouth twisted in discomfort as she tries to find a comfortable position for her injured leg. Once she finds a half-decent position, Link begins to carefully wash the blood away. The little imp bites her lip hard all through the process of cleaning and bandaging.

When he's finished, Midna breathes a sigh of relief and glances to the sky above them, which the sunset has tinted orange and gold. "I don't know how you do this all the time. Get so injured and hurt and keep pushing on anyway."

Link smiles at her. "I can do it because I'm not alone."

She rolls her eyes. "Don't get all sentimental on me. It isn't like we're dying or anything."

He can't help laughing at that. "I guess not. Not yet, anyway."

"Wow, way to brighten the mood, Mister Hero. Thanks."

"Of course. Always here to cheer up the heavy-hearted," he replies with a grin.

Midna opens her mouth as if to say something else, but without thinking she shifts position and flinches, her hands immediately flying to her injured leg as if that will relieve the pain. Link's smile drops and he lays his hands on her thin shoulders. "Don't move too much. It might start bleeding again if you aren't careful."

"Fine." The imp grits her teeth. For a long while there is nothing but silence between them as Midna stares distantly into the twilit sky. Link follows her gaze and watches as the first twinkling stars peer out from the heavens.

"You know," she murmurs, "I wish we had stars in the Twilight."

"And I wish we Hyrulians had glowing markings and sky islands."

She nudges him with an elbow. "But we're on a sky island right now!"

He laughs and shakes his head. "Dear Nayru, certainly not one like this. But the ones you've described in the Twilight - bridges connecting them, rain pouring like waterfalls off their edges... it sounds beautiful."

The imp nods wistfully. "I wish I could show you."

"You'll be able to, soon. We're so close to finding the last Mirror shard, and then..." He pauses for a moment, nervously running his left hand through his hair. "Then after Zant is taken care of, and your people are safe, maybe... Maybe you could show me around the Twilight?"

He doesn't miss the way her expression saddens then, her eyes gazing dully off into the night sky as if lost deep in thought.

"Midna?"

This seems to break her from her sudden trance. "I'd... love that." But still her expression is _so_ faraway...

"Is everything all right?" he asks in concern, brows furrowing.

She turns to him then, her face a storm of emotions - reluctance, fear, sadness. "Link?" she murmurs shakily. "I... I'm not sure about… this."

His heart skips a beat. What? What can she possibly be talking about? He doesn't even urge her to continue, just stares, studying her face and the way her lips twist into a frown. She averts her crimson eyes as her breath hitches in her throat.

"About what?" he urges softly when still she says nothing.

"This - this terrible mess happened all because of…" She swallows heavily. "Because of the Mirror of Twilight. Zant knew of its power, and wanted to misuse it."

Link's brows knit together. "What are you saying, Midna?"

She screws her eyes shut tight and rubs them, as if that will dispel the troubled look on her face. It doesn't. "Nothing, never mind."

He narrows his eyes. "Are you saying we shouldn't finish assembling the Mirror?"

"We have to!" she cries. "I can't leave my people all alone! Look, just forget I said anything, all right?"

He tries hard to fight a scowl - but nods, and says nothing more.

For a long while they merely sit there in the coming night, shivering in the cold, pensive silence hanging heavily over their heads.


	27. Falling

He stands upon dew-tipped grasses at the peak of the temple, and thinks that this massive field in the sky must have been quite the impressive room, once. Now it is only ruins - short grasses sprouting up through the cracked stone floors beneath his feet, and massive pillars soaring high around him on all sides, supporting what must have been a ceiling long ago; but now in its place there are only thick gray clouds.

"Well," Link sighs after a moment of silence, "what now?"

The imp in his shadow leaps up to face him then. Her brows are drawn together and legs crossed midair. "Where's the Mirror shard?"

"I don't know. I've searched every room in this place. It can't be anywhere else, can it? It… it has to be here." Heavy exhaustion drags his voice down and slumps his shoulders. There are bags under his eyes from the few days he's spent exploring this treacherous temple in the sky. Multiple times the crumbling stone foundations had nearly given way under his boots, and he'd come far too close to plummeting down into the sky for his liking. All he wants is to be finished with this miserable place.

"If the other temples we've visited are any indication, this is most likely the part where you fight a giant monster." Midna folds her arms across her chest and cocks a brow at him.

Link groans and rubs his eyes. "You're right. The pieces of the Fused Shadow and now the shards of the Mirror _always_ have some kind of guardian. But I'm really not up for fighting -"

The cracked stone floor beneath his feet trembles then. Link stumbles, eyes widening, and barely manages to catch himself on a tall pillar nearby. Midna rushes to his side, gripping his shoulder with her small hand, eyes intent on the horizon.

And then a pair of massive wings rise up from the other side of the field, bringing with them the body of a terrible creature with its wide lips split into a menacing snarl. Fangs that Link swears are as big as swords glint in the dim morning light. Menacing eyes peer down at the beast's prey, and a forked tongue flicks out from its mouth in anticipation of a fresh meal. Hard red scales cover its reptilian body from its long head down to its sharp black claws.

For a moment, Link and Midna can only stare in wordless shock. Then the dragon pierces the air with an ear-shattering roar - and lunges.

Link tumbles out of the way with a cry of fright, the dragon passing over him with its claws only feet away from his head, the wind of its passage whipping his hair around his face. Midna dives frantically into his shadow, shouting something desperate at him that he can't possibly make out in his moment of panic. He tries to steady his suddenly-shaking hands as he draws his sword and turns to face the impressive creature looming tall before him, its giant shadow swallowing him and blocking out the sun. The hero tries to tell himself that he's fought many terrible things before, and he's always won. He'll be fine this time. It's nothing more than a giant winged Lizalfos. That's all.

But he casts a hurried glance down to the Master Sword in his hand, and thinks it looks pathetically tiny in comparison to the monster's thick, scaly armor.

"Link!" the imp shouts again from his shadow.

He's too busy scurrying behind a pillar and hiding in its shadow before the dragon can attack again, so he doesn't reply. But Midna continues on anyway. "I'll fly out and see if I can find any weak spots in its armor, okay? You just distract it."

"No! That's far too risky."

An angry roar echoes around him. Link grits his teeth and tries to loosen his stance, desperately telling himself to calm down.

 _It'll be fine. I'll find a way to defeat it, I have to. I'll -_

A giant clawed hand slams into the pillar behind him, cracking the aging rock and sending little bits of it showering down onto the grass. The Hylian's frantic heart skips quite a few beats. Eyes wide, he whirls to see the dragon's large head peering around the column, terrible gaze intent on its small prey, saliva dripping from its parted jaws.

He can think of no way to combat the monster. No way to pierce its armor. No way to win.

So he simply turns and sprints in the other direction, heart hammering uncontrollably in his chest, so hard that it _hurts._ He doesn't even dare to cast a single glance over his shoulder to see how close behind him the snarling beast is. There's no need for that. He can _feel_ its nearness; the wind stirred up from its loud wingbeats and its hissing, hot breath filling the air behind him.

Suddenly Midna leaps up from his shadow, gliding off to the side. Link's heart stops when he sees her out in the open. The creature's massive maw could swallow her whole! But, he notices, with a frightened gasp, the monster is still hot on his trail, and barely seems to notice the imp beside it.

Midna floats a little higher - and her mouth splits into a wide grin. "Link!" she calls.

He doesn't stop running. The world around him grows hotter and hotter - until, the very second after he dashes behind another column, a stream of flame blasts straight into his hiding place, licking the air around him. He'd be a pile of ash if only he had reached the pillar a second too late!

Pressing himself against the stone behind him and waiting for the fire to fade, he can only think, _What's happening to Midna? Is she okay?!_

"Link!" the imp calls again. "There are a ton of scales missing right on the back of its neck. You could stab it there!"

 _"Hide!"_ is all he can manage shout in reply.

The fire is gone now, so he risks a peek from behind the pillar, only to see Midna diving down into the shadow of another one. She isn't close enough to hide in his shadow. He can only hope she'll stay there, safe, for the rest of the fight.

Now he only has to figure out a way to get on the beast's back.

He manages to catch furtive glimpses of his surroundings while the dragon stops for a moment to seemingly recover from its fiery onslaught, and realizes that there's thick ivy crawling up one of the towering stone columns nearby. It's a ridiculously risky plan, and he has absolutely no idea how he'll be able to scale the ivy quickly enough, but… he has to try.

"Midna!" he shouts to her. "Can you do something distracting? Something that won't put you out in the open, just -"

But he doesn't have time to finish. The angry monster hisses and pokes its head around the pillar, meeting the terrified Hylian's gaze for a single moment before it opens its mouth wide in preparation to swallow him whole. Link lunges out of the way in blind panic, scrambling to another column, his only option for any sort of cover. He ends up behind the same one that casts the shadow Midna's hiding in.

"You're going to climb, aren't you?" the imp asks.

He can only nod and try to swallow against his dry throat. He's too afraid to look, but he can hear the beast soaring directly toward his pillar.

"Here, I'll help." And with that Midna leaps up from the shadows, extends her hair into a giant hand, curls her fingers around Link - and lifts him, yelling in surprise, off the ground and high up onto the very top of the column. "Hurry up!" she shouts up to him, and then dives back into the shadows to hide.

Link cautiously peers down off the edge of the towering pillar. The dragon is below him now, clawing at the pillar as if that will scare its prey out from hiding. It hasn't seen him yet. From here he can see the weak spot Midna had spoken of; at the base of its neck is a patch of exposed skin possibly as wide as his head. The scales surrounding it are ragged, as if scarred. He grits his teeth, mentally berates himself for being insane - and then leaps off the edge and directly onto the creature's back.

The landing is rough. He stumbles, and the dragon snorts in surprise and confusion. Then it beats its massive wings and takes off into the sky.

There's almost nothing to hold onto. The monster's scales are so slick and tightly-packed together that he finds himself slipping, no matter how desperately he scrabbles for purchase. His heart thuds painfully in his throat as the dragon cries out in rage and _dives -_ right off the edge of the field and into the gray, cloudy sky below.

Link can't help the terrified scream that rips from his throat and echoes in the open air all around him. He's sliding, sliding, _sliding,_ and there's no way to stop as the beast wails and thrashes wildly, and Link flails like a helpless rag doll on its back until he slips off its neck and there is _nothing_ beneath him -

Acting purely on desperate instinct, he flings his hands toward the dragon's wing, and by some miracle - thank the Golden Goddesses above! - he manages to find a little bit of purchase. His palms sweat profusely, but the leather of his gloves provides a half-decent grip, and he clings tightly to the creature's wing, no matter how hard it flaps and growls.

Adrenaline pumps through his veins as he climbs up the dragon's wing onto its back again. The seemingly scarred scales are rough, and provide _some_ sort of handhold, no matter how poor, but the hero knows he'll have to act quickly if he doesn't want to fall again. He grits his teeth hard in the cold wind whipping his golden hair around his face and carefully draws the Master Sword from its sheath - a monumental task while he's simultaneously gripping onto the neck of a flailing, screaming dragon soaring high above any sign of solid earth.

Link, panting hard, lifts the blade high, ready to plunge it down into the exposed skin.

But then the dragon releases a deep, angry roar, its slitted pupil glaring back at the little Hylian on its neck, teeth bared in a menacing snarl. And it tucks its wings and dips into a terrifying spiral.

Link's stomach churns and he screams again in utter horror. The overcast sky around him becomes a blur of senseless motion, until he can't tell the difference between up and down, and he can only squeeze his eyes shut tight and cling to the beast for dear life. Finally the dragon stops, and its wings snap open loudly - but then it's soaring up, _high_ up, its body completely vertical, the Hylian on its neck dangling in the cold air. His sweaty fingers slip. His heart leaps wildly as he scrabbles frantically once again for purchase, barely managing to find it before his hands entirely lose their grip on the monster's scales.

He has to hurry. Before something like that can happen again.

Hands trembling, he lifts the Master Sword once more, and doesn't hesitate to plunge it down as fast as possible, burying the blade in the dragon's neck and digging it deeper and deeper until it's almost to the hilt. The creature cries out in agony - a shrill, piercing sound that reverberates in Link's sensitive ears and makes him clench his jaw in pain. With another wail the beast flaps its wings one last time, and then crashes down upon the field, tearing up grass and even bits of stone floor in its wake as its massive body slides to a stop.

For a moment all is silence. The dragon's eyes are closed, Link tries to catch his breath, and even the cold wind has stopped. Then the monster's body turns black beneath him and begins to shrink and change shape. The Hylian scurries off its form, Master Sword tight in his white-knuckle grip, panting heavily. Soon its body is much smaller - just bigger than his head - and it forms the shape a broken shard of the Mirror of Twilight.

"Link!" Midna flies out from her hiding place, eyes wide as dinner plates. "Are you okay?!"

He swallows. "Just - just fine."

"You looked like you were going to fall off and die! I wanted to fly down there and help you, and catch you if I could, but everything was happening so fast I couldn't keep up and I -"

"I'm okay, Midna," he assures her, a faint chuckle of pure relief following his words. "It's… done."

She swallows heavily, but says nothing in response. Instead she stares at the Mirror shard on the ground before her, forming her hair into a giant hand and using it to pick up the broken glass. A moment later she snaps her fingers, and the shard disappears.

"Let's go assemble the Mirror." Link sheathes his sword and wipes a sheen of sweat from his forehead, his breaths still ragged and his heart only just beginning to calm down. "The sooner we can fix this whole mess, the better."

"Aren't you injured?" Midna protests, unconsciously floating a little closer. "Maybe you need to stop by Renado's."

"Again?" he huffs. "I'm sure Renado's sick of me by now…" For a moment they both pause, and he blinks slowly, and realizes aloud, "Wait… I don't think I'm injured."

Midna stares in disbelief. "You're not?"

"The worst I'll have is some bruising," he assures her, a smile of relief spreading across his face. "This is… this is the most unhurt I've ever been after a battle!"

"Okay, fine, but you're running out of spring water for the hundreds of wounds you'll no doubt get in the future, and it would be good to restock, right? And while you're at it, you might as well just head to Kakariko and ask Renado if something is wrong, just in case. It isn't a big deal. I'm sure it's an honor for him to help the hero!"

Link drops his gaze to his worn boots. He's reluctant to head to Kakariko - firstly, because it really isn't necessary, and secondly… maybe he's worried that he'll never return from the Twilight. And though, by all means, he _should_ want to say goodbye to Ilia and the children just in case, he can't bring himself to. A farewell seems so wrong. Almost like admitting defeat.

And yet, he's faced many terrible things in the past. He reminds himself that he just barely killed a dragon - a _dragon!_ \- and came out of the battle nearly unscathed, with only some aching muscles and possible bruising to show for it. He _will_ be able to survive a battle against Zant.

Although Zant is different from any of the other creatures he's faced so far. Much stronger. Far more intimidating. Far more powerful. He recalls, with a faint shudder, the way Zant had cursed him with the Shadow Crystal and nearly killed Midna. He finds himself hoping that he won't need to face Zant; that he can fix the Twilight's problems without fighting. But he knows that's a foolish hope. For peace to be truly restored, the false King of Twilight will need to be destroyed.

Link heaves a heavy sigh burdened with the weight of the world and runs a hand through his hair. "I can't go back there. Not yet. If it'll make you feel better, I'll sleep for the night. And I'll restock my spring water, too, maybe at Faron Spring, and we could rest there for a bit. Then come morning, we'll restore the Mirror. We have to _finish this,_ Midna."

The little imp looks away and rubs a hand along her arm. "I know," is her reluctant whisper. "I'm just worried about how it will all end."

"So am I," he readily admits. "As long as we have each other, I think… we'll be fine."

She squeezes her eyes shut. "I know."

* * *

 **A/N: Augh, finals were kind of irritating, and this Christmas seemed busier than the ones in the past, so it's been pretty tiring. But heyyy here ya go, here's an update.**


	28. Maybe

She can't say it to his face. She can't possibly tell him her plans. He might want to come with her - and he'll wither in the Twilight. He doesn't belong there. His smile reminds her of the sun itself, and she can't bear to see that light extinguished.

Her eyes trace the features of his face as he sleeps. He seems so peaceful, with his eyes closed gently and his breaths even and quiet. Her heart pangs when she thinks of his eyes. Once she's gone, she'll never see them again; never stare into those wonderful azure eyes and think of how much they look like the sky of his world. The light of the full moon bathes the Faron Spring behind him in silver, and almost seems to make him and his surroundings glow.

"I'll miss you when this is all over," she whispers, turning her head away, unable to look into his face for a moment longer.

"... Why?"

Midna jumps in surprise. Heart skipping a beat, she turns her gaze back to Link - and finds his eyes open and peering at her somewhat worriedly, his brows furrowed. "Wh - I thought you were asleep!" the imp stammers.

His mouth twists into a frown as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. For a moment all is quiet, broken only by the gentle burbling of the clear water nearby them. "I was trying to sleep, but..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up. Try to go back to sleep."

"It's fine. I'm just - I'm wondering what you meant."

Midna nervously bites her lip, and averts her crimson eyes. "Nothing you need to worry about. Go back to sleep, okay?"

She knows, the moment she sees his lips purse, that he isn't going to give up that easily. "But what did you mean? When you said you'd miss me. After the Mirror is pieced back together, I... we..." Now it's his turn to avert his gaze. Link stares in silence for a while at the grassy forest floor, as if at a loss for words. "I was thinking that, well, since it's a gateway between your world and mine, it would be easy to visit each other, wouldn't it? We could see each other as often as we want. When all this conflict is over, I'd..." He looks at her then, with those beautiful eyes like the sky, and smiles, just a little. That smile breaks her heart. "I'd like to see your realm. And maybe help you with anything I can. I don't know what I could do, but if there's anything I -"

"No."

He stops, lips still parted, ready to continue speaking. But when he sees Midna's mouth press together into a thin line, he almost mirrors her expression, and once again adopts a look of concern.

"We can't do that."

"Why not, Midna?"

She squeezes her eyes shut. She can't tell him! It is better for him to stay here in the realm of light, where he belongs. Not a world of shadows and half-light where he would wilt!

But she finds herself blurting before she can stop, "Look at the terrible things that happened all because of that Mirror... Zant wouldn't have gained his new power and used it to destroy both your people and mine. What if something like that happens again?"

"What are you saying?"

"That the Mirror can't last forever. Once it's restored and my people are saved, I think..." She can't bring herself to finish. Can't bring herself to open her eyes and look at Link's face; at the expression of pain that she'll no doubt see in his eyes.

"You're saying... you're saying it should be destroyed."

Midna breathes a shaking sigh and clenches her hands into fists.

"What about you?" he asks, almost hesitantly. "What will you do when it's destroyed?"

"I have to stay back with... with the other Twili. I have no choice. I think they'd need me, and I might need them, too." It hurts to say those words. And she can't believe she's telling this to him, the one thing she didn't want to say, because he can't come with her, he _can't,_ wouldn't it ruin him...?

"Midna." His voice is so genuine, and there's so much feeling in her name - pain, sadness, yet a certain softness, and...

He takes her little hand into his much larger one, and she finally brings herself to open her eyes, and - she sees him staring at her with the most horribly bittersweet look on his face, and she thinks that might be the slightest tremor in his hand, though it's barely noticeable. "Please, I... I couldn't bear to... to..."

Words seem to fail him then. In the faint silver moonlight they can only stare at each other, the silence between them heavy with too many emotions to comprehend. And then he places his other hand on her cheek, leans forward, and presses his lips to hers.

It doesn't last long. He pulls away almost immediately, but the kiss still leaves her breathless and makes her heart race. She can't find words. Instead she only stares blankly at him, her entire face turning a bright shade of red - and even in the darkness of night, she can see his face doing much the same thing.

"I - I - I, um," he stammers, as if he doesn't believe his own actions.

For a moment - just a fleeting moment - her pain is forgotten, and she finds that she can't help a smile creeping onto her face. A smile of both joy and amusement. Joy because - because he cares about her just the same way she cares about him! Of course he does, he has to, this is _Link_ after all, and he's always so sincere. But there's also the amusement. He's so incredibly awkward. She can see it in his nervous face, the way he drops his gaze and stares blankly at nothing, cheeks red as a cherry.

"I know it's selfish, Midna, but - I - I can't bear the thought of you leaving, and..."

"Link."

He pauses and takes a deep, trembling breath, and she smiles at him, thinking that she couldn't bear to leave him, either. Maybe, just maybe, she could form some sort of treaty between the denizens of light and Twilight. It would be difficult. And some part of her thinks it might just be impossible. But she so desperately wants to _try._

With a quiet sigh Midna leans into his chest, and after a moment of hesitation he wraps his arms around her. "Maybe we could try to make this work," she says softly.

"I'd... I'd like that."

He doesn't yet know how difficult it will be. He still doesn't know of her position as ruler of the Twili. She frowns at herself for being too cowardly to tell him. Soon she'll have to. But she has a feeling that he will be just as accepting as he always is, and as she sits there under the moonlight with his heart beating against her ear, she dares to hope that maybe it won't be too much this time to think that things might just work out.

* * *

 **A/N: dont know what this is lol ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯**


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